


malfunction

by Akane21



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akane21/pseuds/Akane21
Summary: Love, as Sasuke thinks, is something sick and twisted, something to be ashamed of and something to never let yourself act on.But his feelings might be getting a bit too out of control — and the past he thought he'd buried comes back to haunt him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Is Kakuzu/Sasuke even a thing or did I just make that up? I don't care. I ship it now. Just like Hidan/Fuu, because they're just so impossibly cute.  
> Also, Fuu is Kakuzu's daughter here. Some awkwardness ensues.
> 
> note: rape isn't graphic, hence the rating, but I still felt the need to put the warning tag. actually, all the incest stuff is not graphic and is mentioned in flashbacks only.
> 
> I feel like I have to mention that English is not my first language. I'm trying my best, but there still might be some mistakes and/or awkward phrasing. I do apologize for that.

_Caught a look in your eyes_  
_They linger too long_  
_Were you just being kind,_  
_or have I read it all wrong?_

Sasuke has to cough loudly a few times to draw the hotel receptionist’s attention. Only then she looks up from her phone, her bright red hair falling on her shoulders. Distraughtly, Sasuke thinks that he’s met too many people with weird hair color lately, and gives the girl an expectant look.

“I see you like it here,” she has this usual polite yet indifferent smile, though her eyes sparkle with something like surprise. “Or have you decided to leave?”

“No.” Sasuke shakes his head. “I intend to linger around for a while longer. I can extend my stay, right?”

“Oh, sure.” Her face seems to become a little livelier upon hearing these words. “As you can probably guess, nobody really wants to stay here for too long... How many days do you wish to pay for?”

Sasuke doesn’t reply right away — how many indeed? He had never spent more than a week anywhere before, and if he’d followed his original plan, he would have left long ago.  
But now...

“A month,” Sasuke decides on as he counts the money.

The receptionist — she probably introduced herself during their first meeting, but Sasuke can’t and doesn’t really want to remember her name — adjusts her glasses, watching him intently.

This makes Sasuke a little too uneasy; but she just takes the money and says, “If you change your mind and want to leave earlier, I will give you a refund, of course.” She sounds like she doesn’t want it to come to that. “By the way, would you like to change your room to a more comfortable one? It will be just slightly more expensive, but...” Sasuke shakes his head again. He’s fine with what he has. The girl makes a disappointed sigh. “No? Well, it’s up to you. Have a pleasant stay.”

She returns to staring at the phone, showing that the conversation is over. Whatever; Sasuke is quite pleased with that.

At first she kept trying to talk to him, but eventually left him alone, seeing the lack of reaction. Perhaps in other circumstances Sasuke would’ve tried to be polite, but right now he’d prefer not to see people at all.

Apart from a couple exceptions.

The air is stale and hot, making it hard to breathe; even the barely noticeable wind, which is just as hot, doesn’t help much.

Sasuke suspects that he feels this way not really because of air, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

He leans back against the wall, closes his eyes and listens.

Fuu’s loud, clear voice; the noise of cars passing somewhere in the distance; quiet music coming from the building across the street — Sasuke thinks it’s a store or a cafe, though it doesn’t really matter. And if he listens closely, he can hear someone’s voice and footsteps, but far away — and it doesn’t matter, too.

Compared to the capital, it’s almost dead quiet here.

The town itself seems almost dead sometimes. Sasuke rarely meets people at the streets, and even more rarely speaks to someone.

Mostly, he only really interacts with three people — aside from a few words to cashiers in the store or that receptionist girl. And even among them, only Fuu has enough free time to hang around with Sasuke.

It’s not that bad.  
Sasuke is happy — though the dull emotion he feels doesn’t really fit this word, it’s close enough.

“It’s good you’ve come — it’s really boring here,” Fuu says.

It is good, Sasuke agrees. And it definitely is a boring small town, even he sometimes feels that way. At least he has Fuu to talk with — or do something more fun. Like racing — though it’s hardly legal, it still provides an escape, and in these moments Sasuke can pretend that nothing has changed.

If there’s one thing he regrets, it’s having to abandon his racing career.  
If he could, he would’ve never left, never started to hide; but sometimes, there is no other choice.

Sasuke remembers that Naruto and Sakura have always looked at the bright side of things; and perhaps, now is a good time to follow their example. Especially when there is a bright side in his situation.

“There’s no one to talk to,” Fuu goes on, and Sasuke looks at her. “Well, there’s Hidan, but he’s such a— ugh, he’s unbearable sometimes.” Sasuke chuckles quietly. An understatement. “Anyway, not much to talk about when nothing’s going on, right? Everyone who could has already gone to bigger cities. And we’re stuck in this hole.”

“If it’s so bad,” Sasuke looks at her. “Why don’t you leave as well?”

“Well, it’s not _that_ bad,” she objects, though it doesn’t sound very sincere. “Just boring. As for why we don’t leave... Dad doesn’t want to.”

“Most people wouldn’t want to leave their home,” Sasuke says. “Even if it would be for the best.”

“Home, ha.” Fuu waves her hand. “You know, we used to live in the States before. I still can’t understand why dad would want to move here of all places. It’s awful.”

Sasuke only shrugs at that. He doesn’t find this town all that horrible; but perhaps, if he lived here as long as Fuu, he would think differently.

“Dad used to have a normal job too, and now...”

“Well, he has his own workshop — that’s not too bad, I’d say.”

“Yeah, if you live in a normal city,” Fuu snorts. “Do you see clients lined up at our doors?”

Remembering their first meeting, Sasuke can’t help but chuckle quietly. “No, and I’m not surprised.”

Fuu laughs too, a joyful glint in her eyes. As Sasuke looks at her, his bad mood is slowly replaced with a weird feeling of calm.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but he enjoys their little meaningless conversations. They help him forget, even if for a short while; and it’s all he needs.  
Loneliness he had thought he got used to now doesn’t seem too appealing.

“You okay?” Fuu asks, seeming to have noticed his distraught look, and Sasuke shakes his head, chasing away the thoughts.  
He nods at her.

Something in Fuu reminds him of Naruto — perhaps this bright smile of hers, her endless tenacity almost at the verge of stupidity; and Sasuke can’t help but respect her for that last thing.

“How about a rematch?” Fuu shifts on her bike seat, grinning mischievously at him. “I’ll beat you this time!”

“You’re too young for that,” Sasuke says, though he’s not going to refuse. A good ride always helps him clear his mind; and Fuu is a worthy opponent, however young she may be.

Sasuke doesn’t know what he is doing here. He blames the boredom and lack of anything else to do.  
It sounds too much like an excuse, Sasuke think, squinting at the bright sun shining through the blinds. Though... it doesn’t matter.

“Want some coffee?” Kakuzu asks.

Sasuke nods automatically before he even comprehends the question.

“Coffee?”

“Did you think that if I’m a mechanic, I must be an alcoholic, too?”

It sounds like a joke, though there’s no joy in Kakuzu’s voice.

“Not really. I just didn’t expect that.”

“I don’t drink.” Then, after a short silence, he adds, “Not anymore.”

Sasuke doesn’t ask further, only nods, noting to himself how Kakuzu’s look darkens for a moment. But it’s not Sasuke’s business — he doesn’t like talking about himself too.

“I don’t really like coffee,” he says to break this too awkward silence.

Not that he hates it — just if there’s a choice, he’d prefer something else. But refusing a seemingly genuine offer seems impolite.  
Sasuke isn’t even sure why he cares about it at all.

“You just don’t know how to make it right.” This time, Kakuzu actually sounds amused.

“Well, convince me to change my tastes.” Sasuke feels the corners of his mouth twitch upwards and forces a neutral expression on his face.

Foolish thoughts run through his mind; Sakura liked coffee, and its smell reminds of home; though calling their university dorm a home might seem far-fetched, but it was the best Sasuke had.  
It’s gone now; but somehow, though the feeling of loss is still there, he feels strangely calm and _right_.

Must be associations.

Though he probably wouldn’t want to smile just because of that.

Sasuke puts his elbows on the table, rests his chin on his hands and watches.  
No matter, he decides. There’s no reason to complain about being in a good mood for once; and he’s used to his own weirdness.

“Sugar?” Kakuzu turns around to ask, as if he felt Sasuke staring at him.

The look in his eyes is somewhat suspicious, even displeased; and Sasuke shakes his head, quickly looks down.  
People usually don’t like being watched, especially so boldly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Sasuke replies slowly.

Kakuzu nods and turns away again.

The atmosphere is calm, almost homely; of course, if Sasuke doesn’t pay attention to the tension between them. But he’s used to ignoring things like that since childhood.

Eyes, full of hungry fire, watching him intently; he has to be careful not to make a sudden move or say anything, or else he’ll be lucky if just another red mark adds to those already on his body.  
Or if he’s not — it’ll happen again: his bound hands getting numb, ragged breathing at his neck, trembling voice repeating words that make sickening fear rise up in his throat.

But that was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter.

The point is that it can’t be compared to today’s lovely tea — well, _coffee_ party.  
That’s a good reason to smile, if he really wants to find one.

Kakuzu puts a cup on the table, and Sasuke reaches out for it — a momentary delay, and their fingers do not touch. Somehow, he even regrets it a little — and this thought is surprising.  
Usually he avoids physical contact.

A small sip of coffee slightly burns his mouth, but it does taste good. Perhaps Sasuke really doesn’t know how to make coffee.

“You were right,” he says thoughtfully. “I like it.”

Kakuzu only chuckles and leans back against the wall, looking at Sasuke.

“So what is someone like you doing in our town?”

“Nothing in particular.” Sasuke definitely isn’t the best liar. “Just wanted to get away from the city life for a while.”

“And from your racing... competitions too, I suppose?”

Sasuke ignores his tone, shrugging. “Perhaps. What do you care?”

He doesn’t want to explain anything; fortunately, Kakuzu doesn’t expect him to.

“I’m just curious why you’re here. We rarely get new people.”

“It’s good that I stopped by, then,” Sasuke says without a second thought.

Kakuzu looks at him longer than should be comfortable; as though he’s trying to see something in him or understand. Sasuke will be surprised if he succeeds, because he doesn’t understand himself at all.

He hadn’t planned on staying anywhere for a long time, and this town shouldn’t have become an exception.  
And yet... he is still here.

He could stay for a while just for this coffee. Sasuke shakes his head and takes another drink, clutching the cup in his fingers to calm down.

What a stupid reason.

Everything is so stupid. Right, Sasuke, make a dozen more excuses just so you can keep pretending everything’s fine.  
No one will know — but you do.

“I see you’ve gotten quite close to Fuu.” Kakuzu casts a quick glance at the door as though expecting — or fearing — that someone will come in, interrupting their conversation; but of course, no one does.

He sighs and runs his fingers along the pale scar on his cheek; either nervously or out of habit, and Sasuke thinks once again how creepy this scar looks — like he’s always smiling with just one side of his mouth.

It’s not repulsive — but somewhat weird.  
The kind of thing that attracts the eye.

Sasuke does have some unhealthy interest towards other people’s scars; it might have something to do with his own, or perhaps there’s another reason; Sasuke doesn’t like thinking too much about it, even if sometimes he just has to.

Silence lingers, and the answer he comes up with isn’t the best.

“You could say that.”

  
  
The motorcyclist that Sasuke saw at the entrance to the town stops next to him and takes off the helmet; and he sees that it’s a teenage girl, barely older than sixteen or seventeen, with short-cropped hair dyed a weird turquoise color.  
She’s an odd sight, not someone Sasuke would expect to see on this empty dusty road; and he stares at her for a few seconds too long.  
  
“Whatcha standing here for? Something broken?” She nods at his bike.  
  
“Yes.” Sasuke takes off his own helmet and rubs his forehead. “Can’t figure out just what, though...”  
  
He somewhat wants to tell her to go mind her own business, but this girl obviously means nothing wrong.

“You look like you could use some help,” she suddenly offers.

 _I doubt you know more about motorcycles than me,_ Sasuke almost says but instead just gives her a skeptical look.

“Name’s Fuu, by the way.” She seems to not notice it and holds her hand out to him.

Sasuke doesn’t shake it right away; stares at it for a few seconds until he manages to fight off the sudden anxiety. He’s wearing gloves, so it should be easier — but not much.  
Fuu ignores his pause as if nothing happened; and her small hand has an unusually firm grip.

“You know, I’ve got a better idea. My dad owns an auto shop nearby, I can take you there. Just in case.” Might be something serious.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Sasuke nods.

He probably could eventually figure out the problem and fix it himself, but having a professional do that is a wiser choice — he’s seen the consequences of amateurish work.

“If you’re not happy with the prices — get lost,” a tall dark-skinned man says and brushes his long hair from his face. “I’d like to see how you try and repair your car yourself. This is the only workshop in town.” He says it in a calm, yet obviously derisive tone.

Even from a distance Sasuke sees the customer literally shaking with anger — but he’s silent, probably realizing he’s right.

“Ah, dad, always the charmer,” Fuu chuckles quietly.

“Screw you,” the customer spits. “Do whatever you have to, just make sure the car’s up and running by tomorrow!”

Sasuke barely manages to step aside as the guy, still fuming, practically runs past him. He shakes his head but doesn’t focus on it for too long.

Instead he looks at Fuu’s father, noticing how they don’t look exactly alike, aside from them both having dark skin; maybe there’s a slight resemblance in their features, but not more.

When the man turns to them, Sasuke sees the scar on his right cheek — rough and uneven, going from the corner of his mouth in a way that makes it seem like he’s grinning.

Laughing, Fuu runs up to him and throws her arms around his neck. He holds her close for a moment but almost immediately forces her away, ruffling her hair.

Sasuke opens his mouth to introduce himself but doesn’t have a chance to.

“And who are you?” Sasuke meets his piercing gaze indifferently, thinking vaguely that this kind of attitude probably doesn’t attract many customers.

Though if this really is the only workshop in the whole town...  
In any case, Sasuke doesn’t really care about pleasantries — only that this man knows what he’s doing.

Sasuke gestures at his bike.

“As you see, I have a little problem here. Not sure why, but it won’t start up. Your daughter said you could help.”

“Hm.” His expression doesn’t change. “Don’t expect me to give you a discount just because you somehow know Fuu. I know the likes of you.”

Fuu grabs her father’s hand, her eyes flashing. “Dad, seriously!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sasuke replies. After a small hesitation, he holds out his hand. “Uchiha Sasuke.”

The man looks at him for a while, then chuckles and gives his hand a quick, firm shake.

“Kakuzu.”

As he lets go, Sasuke exhales quietly. He’s not used to physical contact, even so brief — and, well, people’s company in general.

“Why do you ask? Is something wrong?” Sasuke keeps a neutral expression but still clenches his fists to hide the trembling in his fingers.

“Alright,” Kakuzu says, and the calmness in his voice seems somehow threatening. “Let’s talk straight. I don’t know what you want from my daughter, but leave her alone.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You think I don’t see the way you look at her? She’s only _sixteen_ , Uchiha. She’s just a kid.”

 _The way he looks at her_ — he doesn’t look at her in any way, really.

“Are you serious?”

Sasuke doesn’t understand how Kakuzu could even think something like this; he’s pretty sure he never did or said anything to Fuu that could be considered inappropriate. By his own standards he might be too close to her — this is unusual for him; but there’s nothing beyond that.

Fuu just doesn’t interest him as someone more than a friend.

On one hand, Sasuke finds this stupid.  
On the other — he thinks he understands. He hasn’t been here long enough for Kakuzu to trust him.

Parents usually worry too much for their children, even though Sasuke never experienced that himself.

So he says calmly, “You’ve got it all wrong.”

Kakuzu frowns. “Everyone says that.”

Sasuke doesn’t really have anything to say.

Just that with Fuu he never feels so... strange.

And he can’t name this _strange_ more accurately, as he doesn’t quite understand just what he’s feeling.

“Are you in a hurry?” Kakuzu glances quickly at him and returns to examining the bike. He scratches the scar on his face absent-mindedly, and Sasuke can’t look away for some reason. “If I begin now, I think I’ll be done in a couple hours.”

“No hurry at all.” Sasuke shrugs. “I’ll wait as long as necessary.”

“Then come again in the evening,” Kakuzu changes his mind.

He adds that he’d rather deal with that guy’s car first, where the problem is more serious; and there’s nothing that complicated about Sasuke’s bike, especially since he’s in no hurry.

Evening is fine with Sasuke; he’s not going anywhere else for now, and he could use some rest. He just needs a place to stay — and so he takes the opportunity to ask:

“Can you tell me where the nearest hotel is?”

“The nearest,” there’s a strange emotion in Kakuzu’s voice, something like amusement. “The only, I’d say. Everything here is ‘the only’. About ten minutes from here. When you walk out, turn right and then go straight ahead, you’ll see a sign. Won’t mistake it for anything.” After thinking for a while, he adds, “Or Fuu will show you.”

Sasuke silently nods in appreciation.

“So you’re going to stay for a long time?” Fuu tilts her head to the side, looks at him with surprise. “Not really much to see here. I thought you were just passing through.”

“Big cities are tiresome,” Sasuke says simply, not wanting to go into much details. “I wanted to rest in a quiet place.”

“Well, you’ll rest — in peace,” someone says mockingly from behind him, and Sasuke turns around — only to see a smirking guy about his age or slightly younger. “After dying of boredom.”

Sasuke shrugs — the guy may have a point, but he’d rather die of boredom here.

“I’m Hidan.” The guy outstretches his hand, and Sasuke presses his lips together.

Too much physical contact for one day, he thinks; but if he’s decided to be polite, he’ll have to go on with it. And he doesn’t want any questions.

“Sasuke.” He barely touches Hidan’s hand, letting go almost immediately.

It seems like Hidan wants to say — or ask — something else, but he doesn’t get a chance to.

“Hidan,” Kakuzu says in a weirdly joyful tone. “I see you have a lot of free time.”

“What’s your damn problem?” Even though Hidan looks somewhat angry, he still averts his gaze.

“I have a question too — why are you hanging around instead of doing something useful?” Kakuzu folds his arms, frowning at him. “Or have you perhaps finished everything already?”

Hidan laughs awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair. “Well, not really... I’ll sort your stuff later, promise! I just want, like, half an hour of rest!”

“Get to work, slacker.” He sounds more amused than angry, as if he’s used to such exchanges. “What am I even paying you for?”

“You’re hardly paying me anything!”

Fuu doesn’t seem thrilled at their argument; she shakes her head, closing her eyes.

“Come on.” She pulls Sasuke by the sleeve. “It’s gonna take long... don’t worry, your bike will be as good as new by the evening.”

They walk in silence for a while; but Fuu, it seems, can’t remain silent for long.

“You said your name was Uchiha Sasuke,” she begins, looking away as if she’s shy. “ _The_ Uchiha Sasuke?”

“Depends on what you mean.” Sasuke watches the empty streets.

There doesn’t seem to be many people here — but it’s good for him.

“Oh, stop pretending,” Fuu frowns slightly. “Uchiha Sasuke, the motorcycle racer, three-time world champion — and lots of other fancy titles. I thought your face looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure — what would a guy like you do in our town, in the middle of the season?”

Sasuke sighs.

Really, what was the chance that _no one_ would recognize him?  
Yet another disadvantage of being famous.

Perhaps he should have used a fake name... but it probably wouldn’t have helped if Fuu recognized his face.

“Yes.” He doesn’t try to deny it, seeing no point in it.

“And what, have you really come here... for a vacation?” She doesn’t hide her suspicion.

“Why are you so surprised?” Sasuke looks back for a second — more out of habit than necessity. “It’s a nice quiet place. A bit boring, perhaps, but I’m not looking for entertainment.”

There’s no one behind him.

Of course. It’s all the damn paranoia.

“So, Sasuke...san,” Fuu stammers a bit, suddenly remembering about politeness.

“You can drop the formalities,” Sasuke says, almost smiling. “I’m not much older than you.”

Fuu nods.

“Okay. So you know, I’ve been following you... I mean, your achievements and other stuff... I’m not some stalker!” She laughs. “You’re very cool.” It sounds so childish. “And I’ve always wanted to participate in the same race with you — I know it’s impossible, though.”

Sasuke stops and looks at her.

“I’m currently taking a break from it all...” _A break_ — it’s more like he abandoned his career forever. “But we can compete someday, if you’d like. Just us two. Let’s see how good you are.”

Fuu’s face lights up with a genuine, bright smile, and she nods vigorously.

“Deal!”

Sasuke slightly smiles at her — and thinks for some reason that he might stay here for a little longer than he originally planned.

It’s a good place to hide.

“Of course I love him.” Fuu looks into the distance, absent-mindedly twirling a short strand of hair around her finger. “But... dad’s too worried about me. It’s kinda cute, but it’s just too much. You know?” She sighs. “I get mad and so does he, we yell at each other and don’t talk for days after that.”

“Maybe it’s not so bad,” Sasuke says without thinking — and has to explain when she looks at him with confusion. “My father didn’t care about me at all.” And Itachi was father’s pride and joy; but Sasuke doesn’t want to mention him or even think about him.

“If you look at it like that...” Fuu frowns a little. “I didn’t think of it that way. Maybe you’re right. But still. Sometimes I just don’t understand him — like, what’s the harm in us spending time together? He can’t expect to sit in my room all day.”

“Kakuzu just thinks that I have a thing for you,” Sasuke says, and Fuu laughs.

“Oh, really? You have no chance, pretty boy,” there’s a joyful glint in her eyes. “You’re amazing, but you’re just not for me.” She presses her hand to her chest and draws the corners of her lips down — it looks almost comical, and Sasuke shakes his head, holding back a smile. “Wait a second, since when do you call my dad just by his name?”

Sasuke shrugs.

“How else would I call him?”

For a while, Fuu stares at him with an unreadable expression, making Sasuke feel uneasy, but then agrees. “Yeah, I guess...” and adds, “Maybe you should talk. I don’t want... well, you’re my friend and... maybe he’ll understand you’re a cool guy and stop worrying so much.”

“We’ve talked already.” It didn’t turn out that well.

Fuu seems to be really concerned that he and Kakuzu don’t get along. Though Sasuke wouldn’t call it that. It’s just a misunderstanding — and Sasuke’s inappropriate feelings which complicate everything.

Sasuke thinks that he actually wouldn’t mind... getting closer; this expression has too many meanings, and he’s not sure which one he’d choose.

But one thing is certain — friendship wouldn’t be enough for him.  
Though he most likely won’t even get that.

A sudden call interrupts them, and Sasuke mutters ‘sorry’, hastily takes out his phone; glancing at the familiar number, answers it.

Naruto’s cheerful voice makes Sasuke shudder — this voice he’d almost forgotten awakens too many memories. Pleasant ones — and the ones he’d like to erase forever.

Naruto talks a lot, mostly rambling, as usual; but Sasuke understands the main thing — he’s fine.  
Frankly, this simple phrase should be enough — but this is Naruto.

“I have great news — Hinata and I are finally getting married... the wedding is in two months. You’re invited, of course, and don’t even think of not showing up!”

Sasuke listens to his enthusiastic babbling for a few more minutes; he should end this, but he wants to pretend at least for a while that nothing has changed.

Wedding preparations, something about their mutual friends who are also fine.  
And not one word about Sakura; and it once again makes Sasuke see the reality of what happened, what he was unable to prevent — and the pain returns again, burning, unbearable and so _deserved_.

But at least Naruto is safe — now, with Sasuke out of his life.

Once he finally shuts up, Sasuke says dryly, “You’ve got the wrong number.” He ends the call and looks at the screen for a long time, saying nothing.

He’s happy that his friend is alright, and yet for some reason he wants to throw the phone on the ground, crush it with all his strength and scream.

Fuu looks at him with visible concern. “Something wrong?”

Sasuke slowly shakes his head. “You heard. Someone got the wrong number.”

Fuu seems not to believe him — but at least she doesn’t ask further, and Sasuke is grateful.

“Mind if I steal Fuu away from you?” Fuu yelps when Hidan’s hand grabs her shoulder but relaxes immediately, recognizing him.

She laughs, wriggling out of his grip.

“For what dirty purposes, I wonder?” She sticks her tongue out.

Hidan frowns and even seems to blush a little. “Stop saying nonsense, kid,” he mutters. “Our delivery’s arrived...”

“Delivery?” Sasuke repeats, confused.

“What, where the hell did you think we’re getting the car parts from? From thin air?” Hidan hisses, annoyed, and Sasuke just closes his eyes.

Hidan obviously doesn’t like him much — and he also doesn’t like that Fuu spends so much time with him, but Sasuke tries not to pay attention at it. In any case, he doesn’t care.

“Anyway,” Hidan continues, turning to Fuu again. “Kakuzu left somewhere and I have to deal with all his shit again. So, maybe you’ll help?”

“Of course!” Fuu either doesn’t notice or ignores the tension between them. “Come on, I was already going home anyway. You don’t mind, Sasuke?”

“Not at all.”

Hidan’s appearance was very timely — perhaps Sasuke should thank him for helping him avoid an awkward conversation. Though, of course, he doesn’t.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” Fuu says.

She moves in to hug him, but Sasuke doesn’t let her, gently forcing her away.  
She doesn’t mean anything bad, but Sasuke still prefers to avoid any touching.

At least Fuu doesn’t ask questions; just shrugs and steps back, not focusing on his strange behavior.

“Come on already,” Hidan says, visibly annoyed, and grabs her by the elbow. “Do I have to wait forever?”

The look he throws at Sasuke is hostile, almost threatening, but Sasuke doesn’t react. Hidan also seems too protective of Fuu — but his reasons are different and ridiculously obvious.

Though it’s none of Sasuke’s business.

Fuu gives him a slightly guilty smile before following Hidan; and Sasuke nods back at her.

“You ever hurt her — and you’re fucking dead,” Hidan says casually.

Here they go again.

Sasuke squints at the bright sun, lets out a tired sigh and looks past him to where Kakuzu and Fuu are changing the chain on her motorcycle.

Of course, Sasuke is bored, he wants to have some fun with young and naive Fuu — just to dump her in a few weeks. Or so everyone thinks — and Sasuke isn’t even that surprised.  
Maybe it would be better if it were really so simple—  
But it’s much more complicated.

Sasuke’s consumed in his stupid thoughts, remembering that one time he saw Kakuzu lift Fuu in his arms and spin her around while she laughed, saying, “dad, stop, I’m not a child“; and for some reason Sasuke wants to imagine himself in her place, imagine this momentary tenderness in Kakuzu’s eyes could be directed at him.

Now, Fuu nudges Kakuzu’s shoulder to get his attention, says something — has to be something funny, because he holds back a smile, fakes a frown, making her focus on work.

And Sasuke watches and can’t concentrate on one thing: his hands, his eyes, the way the wind tousles his hair. He looks at the thin pale scars on his back, visible now that he wears just a tank top, and wonders where they might be from.

And how would it feel to touch these scars; run his fingers along them or even—

It doesn’t matter — these thoughts won’t lead to anything good.

Sasuke forbids himself to think about it; but even without a clear image, the desire doesn’t go away.

“You’re talking nonsense, Hidan,” Sasuke says blankly. “I’m not your rival. If you like Fuu, just tell her.”

Hidan immediately blushes, his pale face turning bright red, and almost shouts, “What the hell — what are you saying? I don’t fucking like her!”

Sasuke suppresses a grin — Hidan is too obvious.

But that’s probably none of his business.

“And what the fuck are you talking about? You think I don’t see how you’re always following her around?” Hidan recovers from the embarrassment and goes on the offensive; but Sasuke doesn’t want to continue this meaningless argument.

“She’s a good friend, that’s all,” he says.

“You’re literally staring at her right now!”

“Not at her,” Sasuke corrects without thinking.

He looks at Kakuzu again — he ruffles Fuu’s hair, telling her to be more careful next time — “or we’re gonna run out of spare parts”; and Fuu laughs, looking only a tiny bit guilty.  
Kakuzu smiles at her — so lightly it’s barely noticeable.

Hidan follows Sasuke’s gaze — and, surprisingly enough, doesn’t make any snarky comments. He only says, “Holy shit,” and slaps his shoulder. “I didn’t expect that.”

Sasuke jerks away from him; it’s taking all his effort to keep emotions from showing on his face.

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell him.” Hidan’s seriousness doesn’t last long, and his mouth twists into a grin — which is probably supposed to be reassuring, but it doesn’t work at all. “Suffer all you like.”

Sasuke chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s used to suffering.

But this is different.

“Sato Daiki,” saying the first name that comes to mind, Sasuke adjusts his helmet which he hadn’t taken off since they’d left the city.

Sasuke has mixed feelings about street racing — he’d never participated in something like this, as he aimed for a professional career from the beginning. Though, in general, he doesn’t really care. Especially because illegal races have one undeniable advantage — nobody asks uncomfortable questions.

This is just what Sasuke needs now — he’s missed the speed, the adrenaline boiling through his veins, the wind in his face — and he enjoys the moment, finally forgetting all the concerns.

This feeling of freedom, allowing him to detach himself from everything completely, is brief but much needed.

Fuu manages to keep up with him for quite a long time. Sasuke thinks she might even be able to beat him — he won’t be upset if she does, but he also isn’t going to let her win that easily.

There’s a turn ahead, and he speeds up, leaving the others behind. Sasuke’s in such a familiar environment that he acts on reflexes alone, without thinking.

In the middle of an almost empty road is one lonely car; not slowing down, Sasuke goes around it, a minor obstacle. Not looking back, he hears someone catching up to him; _well, come on_ , he thinks, _try me._

Another turn — the bike leans dangerously, and the nervous excitement courses through his body, making him feel alive like never before.

He spots Fuu suddenly — she got slightly ahead of him, but will she be able to keep this up?  
For a moment Sasuke feels strange euphoria come over him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Sasuke can take a defeat — but he almost never loses.

He doesn’t lose now.

Crossing the finish line, Sasuke almost returns to his old life — and even if for just a few moments, it’s worth everything.

And it’s not about the victory — but about freedom, no matter how illusory it may be.

All eyes are focused on him — amazed, admiring, envious — Sasuke doesn’t even pay attention. He accepts the congratulations, grimacing and inwardly shuddering from ‘friendly’ pats on the back, shakes their hands reluctantly.

Fuu feels much more comfortable among these people — but it’s not surprising, considering this isn’t the first time she participates in the race. Sasuke thinks that she looks a little upset, but this expression quickly disappears from her face.

“You’re good,” a guy whose name Sasuke didn’t remember grins a little. “But we’ll see if you get so lucky next time.”

“We’ll see.” Sasuke shrugs, turning away.

It’s not about luck, of course. In fact, Sasuke almost never got the winning ticket. Though he’s not in the mood to argue.

 _Next time;_ perhaps Sasuke will come here again.

“Thanks,” he tells Fuu later when they return.

Sasuke isn’t one for grand words, but he hopes he was able to convey what he feels — how important this was for him.

“No problem,” she smiles. It’s obvious she’s still a bit upset by her loss but doesn’t hold any grudges — everything was fair. “You were amazing, really.”

“You flatter me,” Sasuke chuckles.

But, well, he enjoys a little praise sometimes; especially since he _is_ good at racing, even if it’s practically his only achievement.

“Not at all,” Fuu says cheerfully. “Um, Sasuke...” She pauses for some reason before continuing, “You gave a false name. Why?”

Sasuke shrugs vaguely. He should have expected this question, but it still catches him off guard.

“I didn’t want to be recognized.”

She stares at him. “I think I get it,” says finally. “You’re a celebrity, after all. They’d definitely want autographs and stuff,” she laughs quietly.

It’s true — but only partly.

Sasuke is hiding for a reason, and he doesn’t want to risk it.

But for now he doesn’t have to worry about it — _for now_ everything is fine. And the fact that Fuu keeps him company for all the time he’s been here is one of the reasons.

Sasuke thinks that if he had a younger sister, he’d treat her the same way; a pity that in reality, they aren’t related.

He’d prefer to have a sister like her instead of a brother — instead of Itachi.

 _Don’t think of Itachi_ , Sasuke reminds himself. It’s a simple rule at the first sight, but it’s incredibly difficult to follow it — the thoughts go back to him and —  
_Don’t think, don’t think._

“What’s wrong?” Fuu asks — she must’ve seen something in his face.

Sasuke shakes his head — it’s alright.

It is — at least, better than it could have been.

He just needs a distraction. Anything.

Fuu doesn’t help much, changing the topic. “I didn’t ask before, but I just thought...” she starts, and Sasuke looks at her, confused. She shrugs and continues, “You’ve been here for almost two months already. Missed three races of the season... What, you’ve decided to end your career at its peak?”

Somehow it sounds like mockery, even though Sasuke knows she didn’t mean it like that.

Though she is right — it’s exactly what Sasuke did when he ignored the contract and just ran off without any explanation, letting everyone down. But for him it was the only chance to live in relative peace, without constant fear.

Fear for himself — and for others.

And Sasuke didn’t really have a choice.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Sasuke looks to the side. “It’s... complicated. I don’t know if I’ll ever return to racing — or even... my old life.”

He won’t.

If before he could fool himself, now there’s no sense in doing that. Not after everything that’s happened.

“You know, you’re kinda like a criminal on the run,” Fuu smiles but falls silent, noticing his look. “Oh. It was a bad joke, eh? Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Maybe, Sasuke thinks, it’d be nice if he was a criminal — and he suppresses a nervous laugh. Because then he would not fear, but _be feared_.

Though he’s not far from being called one; in hindsight, it’s all his fault and no one else’s.

He does laugh, and Fuu looks at him with surprise; Sasuke shakes his head, bites his lip and curls his trembling fingers into a fist. He has to calm down — everything is alright.

_Well — he’s not fooling himself, it’s not alright, but she doesn’t need to know, does she?_

Deep breath — close your eyes and focus, it’s not so bad now. Think positively, Sasuke — isn’t this what Naruto always told you? Time to follow the advice.

“Sorry.” Sasuke manages to relax a little. “I’m not feeling well.”

“You don’t look well, too,” Fuu gives him a concerned look. “You should get some rest... or maybe go see a doctor.”

“I’ll think about it,” Sasuke says — of course, not intending to do that.

Kakuzu takes a step towards him, now no more than a few inches away.

“It seems you didn’t quite understand me.” His voice is deceivingly soft, with a distinct threat. Sasuke shudders — not because of fear, more instinctively, when his fist slams into the wall near his head. “I don’t like that you’re always around Fuu.”

The look on Kakuzu’s face is hostile, even angry — this anger only makes Sasuke want to laugh for some reason.

And he laughs — loud, bitter and angry, too.

Calming down, he exhales, “Really, I like your daughter,” and he feels like he’s about to do something crazy, “But only as a friend.”

Kakuzu frowns at him, but backs away, folds his arms and nods, showing that he’s ready to listen.

And Sasuke has nothing to say.

“You said it yourself — Fuu is just a kid. I don’t like her that way.” She doesn’t compare to you, he almost says but stops himself. “I just like talking to her, that’s all.”

Kakuzu’s expression doesn’t change — only the scar twists his lips in an unnatural half-smirk, even more obvious because of the sharp shadows, and it makes Sasuke feel uneasy.

“I know perfectly well what the likes of you want from young girls.”

Sasuke lowers his head, inhaling sharply and deeply. “Maybe others want that.” He swallows nervously, even though it’s nothing to freak out over. “But I’m not into girls at all.”

Kakuzu looks at him strangely when Sasuke finally looks up at him.

He says, “I didn’t expect you to...” he coughs and averts his gaze. “Well. Alright.”

Sasuke wants to laugh again — this is so stupid and absurd to some extent.

But he keeps silent — and it gets hard to breathe for some reason.

“But still... it doesn’t change the fact you’re a bad influence for Fuu.” Kakuzu frowns again, not as angry now, but still displeased.

Sasuke isn’t sure if this discontent is caused only by the situation — or is he disgusted by the idea that Sasuke can be attracted to men?

Though Sasuke isn’t; in fact, he had never been interested in anyone like that. It’s not about repulsion or anything of the sort; he simply had no thoughts or emotions like this before.  
It’s something he had never questioned — _you can’t love anyone_ — and because of that, now he’s not sure how to act.

“You’re putting her in danger.”

“Me? Fuu had passion for racing long before we met,” Sasuke is glad to change the topic. “So I don’t know who’s a bad influence for whom. After all, street racing _is_ an illegal entertainment. Also... even if I leave now, at best she’ll get angry and will only try harder to succeed.” Sasuke isn’t going to leave this town any time soon, but this remains unspoken.  
Perhaps, painfully obvious.

“And at worst?” Kakuzu asks.

His voice is calm, his face expressionless; and yet his concern is evident in his tense posture and tightly pressed lips.

“She’ll lose her goal.” Sasuke looks at Kakuzu’s long hair, not tied up as usual, falling in long strands over his face; and suddenly feels his mouth run dry — it gets hard to speak. “The meaning of her life, something to fight for...”

Kakuzu snorts, shaking his head. “Such big words.”

Sasuke shrugs and falls silent, thinking.

He won’t argue that it might have sounded a bit pretentious. But, well, he isn’t Naruto who could convey the importance of anything in just a couple simple words; he’s not that good at talking, and even though he really believes in what he says — what he said just now — perhaps it doesn’t sound all that convincing.

Foolish and, maybe, naive.

Sasuke exhales quietly.

He really wants Fuu to fulfill her dream — but it’s not for him to tell a man twice his age how to raise his daughter, is it?

“You want her to be happy.”

Kakuzu looks at him like he’s said something incredibly stupid.

“Of course.”

“Then let her live like she wants,” Sasuke continues. “She has a great future ahead of her. She just needs a chance — and she won’t waste it.”

Sasuke isn’t lying one bit — he wouldn’t want Fuu’s potential to go to waste.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The hostility returns to his voice again.

“You still won’t be able to protect Fuu from everything in this world. Unless you lock her up.”

“I’ll admit, I think about it sometimes,” Kakuzu chuckles bitterly. “Though she’ll hate me if I do.”

“And she’ll be right,” Sasuke says without thinking — and falls silent, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry, it’s not what I—”

Kakuzu doesn’t let him finish.

“For god’s sake, shut up.” He runs a hand through his hair, tousling it. “You lecturing me is _just_ what I need right now.”

Sasuke says nothing, hoping that at least he didn’t make everything worse. Kakuzu doesn’t look at him, too busy pretending to examine the peeling paint on the wall; and only now Sasuke notices how tired he looks. More mentally than physically; and there’s almost sensible sorrow in his eyes; and this, too, is something Sasuke doesn’t ask about. Because it’s none of his business, because he understands — some things are too _personal_ , people don’t open up to others so simply.

This, of course, doesn’t mean that Sasuke doesn’t want to learn — understand a little bit more.

This feeling is dangerously balancing on the edge between ordinary curiosity and something else; and he chooses to ignore it as usual, like everything else — unpleasant or just strange. If he doesn’t think about it, it’s like it’s not there. It doesn’t make it better — but easier.

“I’ll... think about what you said,” Kakuzu finally breaks the silence. “Maybe I am... too hard on her.”

There’s doubt in his voice — perhaps he doesn’t know what to do next; but Sasuke probably can’t give him a decent advice.  
  
“Just talk to her.” Sasuke almost reaches out to touch his shoulder but stops himself; Kakuzu most likely won’t appreciate this gesture, and to be honest, Sasuke doesn’t feel quite comfortable himself when he thinks more about this sudden impulse. He coughs, feeling awkward yet again, and continues, “Try to listen to each other. Understand.”

Sasuke thinks it sounds like he’s quoting some book on psychology for dummies; he doesn’t know much about _normal_ human relationships. And his experience in those that _aren’t_ normal definitely won’t help here.

“If it was that _simple_...” Kakuzu, it seems, isn’t impressed with his advice either. He sighs and says, much calmer now, “Well. I think we’ve cleared up this... misunderstanding.”

This is probably the best apology he’s going to get. Sasuke nods — indeed they have, there’s nothing to talk about.

Their conversations too often seem meaningless, Sasuke thinks vaguely, looking at Fuu while she keeps talking enthusiastically about that time a year ago she and Hidan got into some trouble — again. The wind ruffles her hair that’s noticeably grown in the past month, and she shakes her head to get the loose strands off her face.

Sasuke idly wonders whether he should tell her that she needs to dye her hair again — or she knows it herself. She probably does.

And Sakura had to be reminded sometimes.

Sakura... Sasuke doesn’t really want to think about her, but he can’t help it. Just like other moments from the past, the memories of her don’t leave him, and it seems logical to an extent: the harder you try not to think of something, the more you end up thinking about it.

“You know, at first I thought Hidan was your brother or something,” Sasuke says for no reason at all. The thought’s been on his mind for a while.

Because really, Hidan practically lives in their house. Or maybe he does — Sasuke doesn’t follow him but never saw him return anywhere else.

“God, no!” Fuu waves her hand, laughing. “No. Hidan and I became friends back in school. He’s a nice guy if you get to know him, so don’t avoid him like that.”

“I wasn’t,” Sasuke chuckles slightly.

Hidan might really be a decent person, Fuu surely knows better. Sasuke is content with the neutral relationship they have; Hidan just needs to stay out of his business.

“He started working for dad when he was still in school. Wanted to leave the town after graduation, but... it didn’t work out.” She shrugs. “So he stayed with us.”

“It’s not too bad,” Sasuke says. Mostly just to keep the conversation going, even though he doesn’t have much to say.

“Yeah,” Fuu suddenly smiles widely. “It’s less... lonely. You know, I don’t really hang out with my classmates. They’re nice, but... we don’t get along.”

“I understand.” Sasuke half-closes his eyes. “I had similar experience back when I was at school.”

He was never interested in communicating with his peers — there were a couple people he could call friends; but eventually, this was over too.

Not because Sasuke wanted it, though. He just didn’t have a choice.

When you’re thirteen, and after your father’s death your elder brother is the only authority and the closest person you have — you don’t even think of disobeying him.  
And when you finally realize — it’s too late.

Sasuke grimaces — again. If only he could control his thoughts or even better — erase his memories.

“Okay, let’s not talk about sad things,” Fuu says quickly, obviously sensing his mood. “Tell me something... I don’t know, do you have any funny stories?”

“Can’t say I do.” Unless you’ll find funny that time when Itachi decided that at fifteen his little brother is old enough to—

Sasuke clenches his fists, nails digging into the skin. The pain clears his mind a little, helping him come to his senses.

“What is it?” Fuu looks at him, a worried look in her eyes. “Sasuke...”

Sasuke forces a smile — more like a pathetic excuse of one.

“Sorry. I remembered... something that wasn’t very funny.”

“It happens,” Fuu says sympathetically. Tactful as always, she changes the topic, seeing that he doesn’t want to discuss it. “Then I’ll tell you a story! It’s actually rather stupid, but we had fun — and dad got really pissed off...”

Sasuke would listen to a dozen more of these stupid stories — just to forget his own.

“Just don’t tell me you’re gonna come up with another dumb excuse to ditch me!” Fuu warns.

“How could I,” Hidan waves dismissively and turns away, hiding his unusually soft smile.

Sasuke has to keep himself from rolling his eyes — and reminds himself that it’s none of his business.

“I’m watching you,” Fuu points at him with a serious expression but almost immediately bursts into laughter. “I’ll go gas up the bike — and you two... try not to kill each other, okay?”

“No promises,” Hidan grins.

Fuu waves him off, still chuckling.

They’re really... cute.

Sasuke might not like Hidan that much, but he’s Fuu’s friend — or something more. It’s certainly not for Sasuke to judge if things work out between them.

It’s strange to think about it. Not that Sasuke really cares, but his thoughts somehow keep coming back to shy smiles, awkward glances and this stupid word — ‘love’.

And among these thoughts, one stands out, almost frightening — how would Fuu react if she knew about Sasuke’s strange feeling towards her father, the feelings in which he gets lost more and more with each day?

Sasuke wouldn’t be surprised if she looked at him with disgust — because it is disgusting, _wrong_ ; and that’s why Sasuke will never tell her.  
It’s bad enough that Hidan knows — to be honest, Sasuke isn’t sure how he can care so little. But Hidan, it seems, doesn’t care about anything unless it has something to do with him.

Sasuke looks at Fuu until she disappears around the corner and turns to Hidan. “So what was it that you wanted?” He hugs himself, not thinking that it looks like an obvious attempt to protect himself; though Hidan doesn’t seem to care.

“Nothing much... can you just tell that asshole that Fuu and I aren’t gonna be back till evening?”

At first Sasuke doesn’t understand he was referring to Kakuzu; hearing that feels somewhat unpleasant, but he’s not going to lecture Hidan — the guy has no idea how to be polite and can only watch what he’s saying when Fuu is around.

“Can’t you do it yourself?”

“No thanks, don’t want another lecture,” Hidan snorts.

He should’ve expected that. But Sasuke can do it; and it’s a good excuse to start a conversation, something he couldn’t do for a while.

“I’ll tell him,” he nods.

Sasuke opens the door without knocking and comes in.

Kakuzu is standing bent over the hood of the car; instead of greeting, he only says, “Hand me that wrench over there.” He doesn’t even turn around. “The open-ended half-inch.”

Without a word, Sasuke takes the wrench from the desk and puts it into his outstretched hand. Kakuzu mutters something incoherent and vaguely resembling ‘thank you’, returning to work — and Sasuke just watches. The process itself isn’t exactly fascinating — but the way he’s so immersed in it is.

It’s like second nature for him — must be years of experience. Watching him, Sasuke briefly imagines touching his tanned hand — covering it with his own pale one, and just the image of this contrast makes his heart race wildly.

Of course, Sasuke does nothing of the sort.

 _He shouldn’t_ , he repeats to himself.

A few more minutes pass in almost complete silence.

Kakuzu curses under his breath and straightens up.

“This is going to take long,” he mutters and turns around — immediately freezing when he sees Sasuke.

“You.” It’s hard to tell by the look on his face if he’s annoyed or just surprised.

“And who did you expect?”

“Usually, when I’m working, only Fuu comes to me. Or Hidan — but he’d never find the right wrench.” Kakuzu chuckles and leans back against the car door, looking at him strangely. “What did you want? Need your bike fixed again or what?”

“Can’t I just come because I feel like it?”

Somehow, Sasuke feels calm just being near him; and it should perhaps feel wrong — yet it doesn’t.

“You can’t, because you’re wasting my time,” Kakuzu snaps but then relents. “Well, since you’re already here, I could use some help.”

“Alright,” Sasuke shrugs.

He wants to ask why he’s suddenly become so friendly, stark contrast to his usual behavior; but on the other hand, there’s nothing to complain about. At least he’s not kicking him out. And the opportunity to work together is a show of trust which Sasuke appreciates.

Sasuke doesn’t know as much about cars as he does about motorcycles, but his limited knowledge is enough for him to actually be some help.

And somehow, it becomes easier. The sickening feeling of anxiety doesn’t fade completely but gets weaker; and all the thoughts disappear too, seeming unimportant now.

It helps more than talking.

“Oh, by the way,” Sasuke says casually, finally remembering. “Fuu and Hidan left a while ago. I think they were going to the city nearby — Fuu mentioned watching a movie or something. I didn’t ask much.”

Kakuzu’s intent look makes Sasuke swallow nervously; and it’s not fear, and something different — and worse.

_Wrong._

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

Kakuzu doesn’t answer and goes back to work.

Sasuke is silent too, because he doesn’t know what to say, because talking is difficult when they’re so close; and — an unthinkable insolence — he touches Kakuzu’s hand, so casually it might seem accidental but it’s _not_. He exhales and holds his breath; but Kakuzu doesn’t notice or doesn’t think much of it, and it’s good, because Sasuke wouldn’t want to _explain._

“Aren’t you worried?” he asks after a few more minutes of silence.

“About?”

“About Fuu.” Sasuke stares into his face — calm, showing no sign of concern.

“Not at all,” Kakuzu shrugs. “Hidan won’t let anyone harm her.”

“So won’t I. But for some reason you’re always upset when we go somewhere together.”

“Do I need to remind you _where_ you two usually go?” His look darkens. “I’m still against her participating in races. It’s too dangerous.”

Sasuke could object — but he can predict what response will follow his arguments. And, well, he’s already said everything he could — now it’d be better not to interfere. Let them sort it out themselves — it will be right.

The problem, Sasuke thinks, is that both Kakuzu and Fuu refuse to listen to each other — stubbornness seems to be their family trait.

“Besides, I trust Hidan enough to let Fuu go with him.”

Sasuke flinches, focusing his attention at him again.

“So you don’t trust me?” he asks.

“I didn’t,” Kakuzu corrects him.

Sasuke lowers his head, hiding a smile.

They don’t say anything else — but they don’t need to.

When they finish, instead of leaving Sasuke stays to drink coffee he’s recently become addicted to; and thinks that Kakuzu sees right through him, ignoring the obvious out of tact.

Or maybe he doesn’t care — that’s even more likely.

Sasuke takes the steaming cup from his hands, touching his fingers accidentally; and it takes him some effort to keep a calm expression.

He tries to joke awkwardly, even more so because his mood is far from joyful. “I hope you’re not trying to poison me, Kakuzu-san.”

“Why would I,” Kakuzu chuckles.

“Who knows. I tried to seduce your daughter.”

Even now, a stupid conversation about nothing, Sasuke keeps addressing him formally — he’s used to behaving like that with people older than him. Even with his father he spoke the same.

Is there a point to remember about manners with a man you want so much?

What are you thinking — Sasuke clutches the cup so hard his fingers go numb.

“Yes, Sasuke, what are you thinking?” Itachi’s voice echoes in his mind, mocking.

Sasuke doesn’t want to think at all.

But his hands are trembling so hard — and Sasuke can’t say for sure if it’s because of fear or the rush of adrenaline.  
In any case, it doesn’t go any further; because Sasuke, as always, doesn’t have the courage to act.

And it’s for the best — because who knows what could have happened.

Perhaps the same that happened before.

Sasuke takes a deep breath, takes a few sips of bittersweet coffee — he even remembered to add sugar.

“Does it taste like poison?” Kakuzu asks with a slight grin.

“It was a dumb joke,” Sasuke admits, feeling the pressure in his chest fade. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Kakuzu is silent for a while before speaking again, “I think I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t think well of you,” his voice does sound a little... guilty. “But I was wrong.”

“I’m worse than you think,” Sasuke shrugs.

He finishes his coffee, looks at Kakuzu from under half-closed lashes — and wonders what it would feel like to touch his hair, bury his fingers in it — would it be rough or soft.

And what would it feel like to grab his hair, pull him closer and—

_Worse, so much worse._


	2. Chapter 2

“Nice bike, by the way.” Kakuzu raises his head, looking Sasuke over.

Sasuke shrugs and nods. “Of course, it can’t be compared to some I used to ride, but,” he mindlessly runs his hand along the seat, “I’m not on the track.” _And I doubt I’ll ever be there again,_ he doesn’t say but still feels uncomfortable. “But it’s one of the best models. I quite like it.”

Surprise flickers in Kakuzu’s eyes. “So you’re a racer?”

Sasuke sighs quietly, leaning against the wall. When will he learn to watch what he’s saying... though there’s no point in hiding that.

“Yes. Fuu recognized me immediately.” He doesn’t know why he adds that last thing.  
Kakuzu chuckles, looking strangely at him.

“I’m not a fan of racing — or sports in general — to recognize... _celebrities._ ”

“I see.” Sasuke shrugs again.

“Does that offend you?” Kakuzu asks, his initial hostility gone, and Sasuke grins wryly, shakes his head.

“Not at all. Quite the opposite. I’m used to fame... a little break from that wouldn’t hurt.”

Indeed, it is nice when someone, for a change, doesn’t see just a famous racer in him — but a person. Before — now it almost seems like another life — it rarely happened, and it was sometimes annoying.

Sasuke is still an ordinary man, who was only in some ways more fortunate than others. And in some ways — less, and if he was asked, he’d say that in his life there is absolutely nothing to envy. Everyone sees only what’s on the outside, but if they knew the truth, they would never want to be in his place.

“Are you paying with cash?”

Sasuke doesn’t react right away, too consumed in his thoughts. “Oh... Yes.”

It’s not very convenient, but this way there’s less risk he’ll be tracked down — and even if it’s just his paranoia, Sasuke can’t be too careful.

“Good, because our card reader hasn’t been working since last month.”

Sasuke raises his eyebrow but says nothing. He expected something like that.

He slowly counts the money, sometimes looking up at Kakuzu.

One of these moments lasts too long, and Sasuke finds himself openly staring at him. The way he runs his fingers over the mark on his cheek; and Sasuke isn’t sure what exactly catches his eye. Just a scar — is it that important?

But what seems important is not the scar itself but the gesture which Kakuzu, judging by how detached his look is, doesn’t even notice. But in the next second he shakes his head and looks right at Sasuke — and he averts his gaze, coughing awkwardly.

“Here.” He hands him the stack of bills, noting with displeasure how his hand is trembling — he feels extremely uncomfortable.

Kakuzu takes the money, not commenting on his behavior — either not noticing or deciding to ignore it; either way, Sasuke exhales, forcing himself to relax.

“That’s right,” Kakuzu says when he finishes counting. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

From the tone of his voice it doesn’t sound like he’s had any pleasure. But, well, Sasuke is used to that. He didn’t expect a warm welcome.

Muttering a quick ‘thank you’, he takes his motorcycle and leaves.

“You win again,” Fuu pouts — more playfully than seriously offended. She seems to glow with happiness the whole day, and even the defeat doesn’t change it. Somehow Sasuke is certain Hidan is the reason. He doesn’t ask — it’s none of his business; he just notices it. They must have had a good time yesterday.

It still amazes him how easily Fuu gets along with everyone — with the neighbors, with the bikers several years older than her, with Hidan — even with Sasuke himself. Sasuke is quite aware that he’s a hard person to get along with... but he didn’t notice how he began to consider Fuu a friend — he thinks he can call her that.

She must just be like that — so open and sincere in every way, and it attracts people to her.

“You’ll get lucky next time,” Sasuke grins a little.

She smiles, wide and bright, shakes his outstretched hand firmly, almost painfully. She puts on her helmet again and hops on the bike — and they race back to the town.

Sasuke lets her get ahead of him, and she laughs victoriously at him. He doesn’t smile back but feels the tension go away.

“You know,” Fuu says dreamily, “I hope that when I graduate from school, I’ll be able to try to and get into professional racing. Then I’ll be able to decide for myself. And I’ll be able to get out of this hole.”

“I’m sure you will.” Sasuke turns to her. “But if I were you, I’d discuss it with your father.”

“Nah,” Fuu frowns. “He’ll start his usual ‘it’s too dangerous, I won’t let you go anywhere’ — always the same thing.”

“He’s worried about you.” Frankly, Sasuke is more on Fuu’s side — it’s foolish to overprotect her like that, hoping she’ll put up with it. But he understands Kakuzu too — though Sasuke isn’t good at giving advice and can’t really tell them what to do.  
And he shouldn’t interfere — they’ll figure it out without him.

Fuu sighs sadly. “I get it. Just...” She bites her lip, hesitates, searching for words. “It pisses me off, okay.”

Sasuke doesn’t really know what to say.

“You just need to talk.” Right, as if she wouldn’t think of it without him.

Fuu nods half-heartedly. “Maybe. Not that easy, you know... dad is very good at avoiding _serious conversations.”_

Sasuke fails to hold back a chuckle, and she weakly smiles back.

“Yeah, and... take this,” he hands her the envelope stacked with cash he’d received after winning the race. “I don’t need it.”

He really doesn’t, having enough money of his own; and Fuu could use it more than him.

“I don’t either,” Fuu shoves his hand away — and this isn’t the reaction Sasuke expected. “I didn’t win that. It’s not fair.”

Sasuke wants to object, but she doesn’t let him.

“No.”

She crosses her arms and stares at him stubbornly, visibly offended.

“You want to get out of here... you need money,” Sasuke says uncertainly.

“Everyone needs money.” Fuu frowns. “But that’s not fair, I told you. And, Sasuke... you’re insulting me.” Her usual playful tone becomes colder at once, and Sasuke feels awkward again. “I understand you mean well... but I’ll achieve everything myself. I’ll win myself. And when you’re like this, it’s...” she inhales sharply. “I don’t want your handouts and your pity.”

Sasuke says nothing — and feels like an idiot, which is nothing new.

Some time ago — feels like an eternity now — he offered Naruto to pay his debt for university and got the same answer. Then, Naruto smacked him over the head with a notebook — and his words were much harsher.

It took Sasuke a long time to realize just _what_ he had said wrong.

“I’m sorry,” he says now, awkward as ever.

Fuu bites her lip. “Forget it.” Seeing that he’s about to say something else, she shakes her head. “It’s fine.”

Sasuke shrugs and looks away.

Maybe it is.

Fuu is never angry for a long time; but that doesn’t make it easier for Sasuke.

“It’s late. I’m going home. Dad’s probably worried.” She ruffles her already disheveled hair nervously. “See you.”

“Of course,” Sasuke replies after a small pause.

She walks away, her steps quick and nervous, pushing the bike beside her; and even from the distance Sasuke can see her hands shaking.

Why does he always say something wrong?

Kakuzu grabs Fuu’s shoulder, making her turn to him. “What did I tell you about racing?”

“It’s not that, dad, Sasuke and I were just riding,” Fuu protests — but she’s a bad liar, even Sasuke sees how awkward her smile is and how she’s trying to avert her eyes.

Kakuzu frowns, stares at her for a long time before sighing and letting her go.

“Don’t lie to me,” he says. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? You’ve been talking about this damn race all week.”

Fuu looks completely helpless now, but Sasuke still doesn’t come out. He wanted to talk to her, to apologize for his stupidity again; but now doesn’t seem like the best time. He wonders if Kakuzu will consider what he said before. Will he understand that it’s serious for Fuu, not some teenage protest but something important?

“And you’re never letting me do anything,” she says, unusually loud. “Never! You know what? I don’t care! I’m not a child, I can decide for myself.”

“Did you forget it’s simply illegal?” Kakuzu raises his voice. “I’ve had enough problems with Hidan, do you want to get in trouble with the police too?”

“Gosh, nobody here cares!” Fuu objects. “There was that one time some cops spotted us on the road, but they quickly fell behind and no one...”

“Fuu!”

Kakuzu grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her a little — but that’s enough for her to go silent, staring at him in surprise.

“How don’t you understand,” he says. “I’m just... worried about you. After what happened to your mother...” he doesn’t finish, stopping abruptly. Fuu is silent too, looking lost.

Sasuke feels uncomfortable — he obviously isn’t supposed to be hearing this now, but curiosity doesn’t let him leave. Fuu mentioned an accident... was her mother a racer too or did she die in a crash? Though if it was so, she would’ve mentioned it... or not — after all, it’s too personal.

“But nothing will happen to me,” contrary to her words, there’s no initial confidence in Fuu’s voice. “I’m... careful and all, really.”

“Everyone says that until it’s too late.” Kakuzu lets go of her. “Don’t think I enjoy forbidding you from all the fun.”

“Sometimes it seems like that,” Fuu grins sadly. “You’re telling me I don’t understand... why don’t you want to understand me? At least try to?”

Kakuzu says nothing for quite some time, and the anticipation on Fuu’s face is replaced by painful disappointment.

“I see,” she says blankly.

She turns away, about to head towards the house, but Kakuzu stops her, as if having made up his mind.

“Wait.”

Sasuke watches him take her hands in his, not letting go, and say quietly,

“I want you to be happy — and if you really want to devote your life to racing,” his voice breaks barely noticeably. “The truth is, it’s your decision. Just... think about it, alright? And I’ll always be here for you.”

He pulls her in, hugging her tightly; Fuu shudders but immediately wraps her arms around him, pressing closer.

They stay like this for a long time, not letting go of each other; and Sasuke decides that he’s seen enough.

He should be happy for them — and he is, but there’s still this strange bitterness inside; understanding that he has no place here, no place in their lives, and it would be better for him to leave now, just to disappear.

The thought flashes in his mind and disappears; Sasuke is too selfish to do so.

And, really — what’s gotten into him.

So stupid.

He walks slowly, breathing in the cool night air, and the town seems completely deserted now — even the lights in some houses don’t change this impression.

But peace is still far away.

_Itachi touches him — slowly, carefully. So he’s in a good mood today, Sasuke notes while a heavy hand runs up his neck to the back of his head, strokes firmly — a possessive gesture, expression of superiority._

_“How was school today, Sasuke?” And his voice is soft and deceptively gentle, as if he truly cares._

_Sasuke is silent._

_Itachi sighs, moves closer — buries his nose in Sasuke’s disheveled hair, inhales deeply, holding his breath_ — suffocate, suffocate, just die already. _He pulls away finally, and it seems it’s been much more than a minute._

_Itachi never kisses him on the lips, as if it’s his only taboo; but he has enough fun with the rest of his body, when his self-control disappears. Weak to begin with, to be honest._

_He doesn’t expect Sasuke to reciprocate — as if he doesn’t want that. As if he only wants to take and subdue, smiling, masking it behind care and tenderness._

_And only if Sasuke is lucky._

_Sasuke does not resist when Itachi’s cool hands slide under his short, caress the scars and bruises he left — does not resist when Itachi draws him closer, pressing into him —_ it’s disgusting, let go, let go.

_Sasuke does not resist._

_Itachi likes when everything is according to the rules — the ones he established, ridiculous and illogical. And he doesn’t like when Sasuke breaks these rules._

_The night air coming through the window cools his naked skin, making him shudder — only from that, not from pain. He’s used to this, and it doesn’t hurt like before. Unless Itachi_ punishes _him._

_Sasuke understands far more than before — he’s learned to follow the rules and silent orders._

_Just how Itachi likes._

_Be quiet, lie still, relax — enjoy it._

_His own helplessness makes him sick, but he can’t do anything._

_Itachi’s heavy, ragged breathing and the chaotic beating of Sasuke’s own heart — the only sounds breaking the silence — are almost deafening. Itachi’s fingers are digging into his thighs — leaving bruises, for sure, but no one will see them._

_It doesn’t hurt that much — he’s not a child anymore, he can handle it._

_But his eyes still sting, and something constricts painfully in his chest._

_Sasuke wonders, closing his eyes, what would father have said at this._

_Is this what he expected from Itachi — is this what he wanted him to become?_

_What does it matter, really._

Sasuke can’t even imagine why Hidan suddenly decided to speak to him — it’s not like they have a lot of things to discuss. And it’s not like they often talk at all. They don’t dislike each other, but they are definitely not close.

Hidan takes out his phone and proceeds to search for something, cursing quietly. Sasuke looks silently at him, not understanding what this is about.

“Tell me what it is,” he rushes him, starting to get annoyed.

Instead of replying, Hidan gestures him to come closer.

“Our internet is slow as hell, but it’s better than nothing... so, you’re ‘missing’, eh?” He holds the phone right in front of Sasuke’s face.

 _Japanese motorcycle racer, three-time world champion_ — and so on — _Uchiha Sasuke has gone missing three months ago;_  
_His whereabouts are unknown_ — Sasuke almost exhales with relief;  
_His brother, Uchiha Itachi, promises a reward for any information about him_ — Sasuke clenches his fists;  
_The police have not yet made any comments_ ;  
_As previously reported, Uchiha Sasuke’s place in the team was taken by Akashi Sai — a beginner yet promising racer_ — Sasuke grins wryly — well, this guy isn’t so bad, let him use this chance.

“There’s a whole article about that Sai,” Hidan adds. “But it’s not very interesting. But the fact that you are missing — that’s something to think about, huh?”

“Do you really care about this?” Sasuke asks quietly, looking at him. A familiar chill runs through him, but he manages not to flinch, not to show his true emotions.

Itachi isn’t going to give up so easily. It was to be expected — but Sasuke was stupid enough to hope that he’ll get tired of chasing him.

“Nah, just curious. So you’re hiding in our town?” Hidan gives him a strange look. It’s hard to understand if he’s angry, amused or showing concern in his own way.

Sasuke is silent, absent-mindedly rubs his left wrist — the long-healed scar aches for some reason, and there’s a heavy feeling in his chest — anticipation.

Nobody will look for him here. Too far away — who will think he’d ever go to a place like this?

But still...

_“I’ll find you anywhere.”_

“What’s that?” Hidan stares at his hand, and Sasuke wants to curse — too reckless of him.

“Nothing.”

My brother’s a sick bastard — is that what you want to hear?

Sasuke pulls down the sleeve of his jacket, covering the dark marking on his skin; he’s not going to tell anybody anything — especially not Hidan.

“Whatever you say,” Hidan agrees surprisingly easily. “Look,” his voice becomes slightly more serious. “I don’t really give a fuck, but if you got problems...”

There are no problems — why can’t people simply leave him alone and stop trying to figure out just what is wrong with him?

Sasuke doesn’t know how he manages to stay calm when he looks Hidan in the eye and says, “Thanks, but I’m fine. The issues I have with my brother,” his voice breaks at this word, “are none of your concern.”

_Just like my life._

“As you say,” Hidan shrugs.

And again looks at him like he _understands_ , and Sasuke feels sick.

Just for a few moments, but it’s enough for Sasuke to feel like the most disgusting — not even a person, a thing — with all his scars, inner and outer; and it’s not anger he feels but close to that — because _no one should see—_

And a weak, practically _non-existent_ consolation is that the man who sees is someone Sasuke doesn’t care about.

Because he still imagines someone else near, someone else’s look — before which his own weakness is even more apparent.

“Why are you bothering me... what do you want?” His voice is flat and tense, not giving away anything.

Sasuke hopes it is.

“I don’t know,” Hidan says. “Told you, I was curious, then I saw you and thought I’d ask. You didn’t kill anyone, I hope?”

“ _I_ didn’t,” Sasuke’s fingers twitch.

_But someone died because of me._

“That’s good then,” Hidan grins and reaches out to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly — but pulls away almost instantly, noticing how tense Sasuke is. “Just be careful, you never know — one minute you enjoy your freedom and the next — the cops arrive to bring the prodigal brother home.”

Sasuke grimaces. It sounds... unpleasant. And he follows the news — he would’ve found out himself.

But he still says, “I am careful.”

“That’s great,” Hidan pats him on the back, and it takes Sasuke a lot of effort not to wring his arm — or crouch on the ground, covering his head with his hands; he’s not sure which impulse is stronger. “Alright, I’ve gotta go, got a lot of stuff to take care of.”

“Finally,” Sasuke says flatly. He takes a few steps back — just in case, even though he understands that Hidan won’t harm him, it’s just his way of communicating, pretty _normal_ ; and a normal person wouldn’t have reacted the way Sasuke did.

Even though Sasuke wished not to see Hidan for as long as possible, they still meet quite soon.

The next day, actually.

Sasuke finally decides to talk to Fuu — he does have to apologize to her properly, not how it came out right after that conversation.

He feels uncomfortable on the way to their home — and this feeling intensifies when, opening the door of the workshop, he sees Kakuzu and Hidan.

The latter, as usual, isn’t doing anything useful — he’s leaning against the wall and saying something, but stops mid-sentence, noticing Sasuke.

“Oi, Uchiha,” he greets him — even joyfully, it seems. Kakuzu, on the contrary, just nods and once again bends over the car. “What brings you here?”

Sasuke isn’t in the mood for arguing, so he just says, “I wanted to talk to Fuu.”

“She’s not here now.” With visible disappointment, Kakuzu shuts the hood of the car and straightens up, wiping his face with his hand. “But she should be back soon, so you can wait for her. Or come again later.”

“I’ll wait, if you don’t mind,” Sasuke says half-questioningly.

Hidan keeps staring at him, intent and slightly annoyed, and Sasuke thinks — what, is he still jealous of Fuu? Stupid, if so — but then again, perhaps Hidan just doesn’t like him and isn’t thrilled to be in his company longer than usual. In that case, it’s mutual.

Kakuzu shrugs. “Whatever. Though I don’t have time to entertain you, too busy here,” he nods at the car. “Some people should get their arms torn off for treating their car like this...”

“Do you need help then?” Sasuke asks without thinking.

He wants to punch himself almost immediately — but Kakuzu suddenly livens up. “I don’t, but Hidan does.”

Before Sasuke has a chance to respond, Hidan objects, “No way!” And he crosses his arms, staring at Kakuzu. “I can handle this alone.”

“You’re always whining that I make you do all the work,” Kakuzu grins. “And now you’ve got a volunteer. You should be happy.”

Hidan huffs but doesn’t object — either acknowledging the truth or understanding that it’s pointless to argue.

Once again Sasuke notes that they have a weird relationship: they seem to be fighting constantly — it’s unclear why Kakuzu allows Hidan to behave this way — but there’s no actual animosity between them. It’s just the way they are, perhaps; and it’s not Sasuke’s business, but he can’t help but notice this.

He wonders how they got so close.

Sasuke isn’t going to ask that, of course.

“So... what should I do?”

“There are a few boxes left to unpack,” Kakuzu gestures to the door that leads to the actual shop. “And clean the place up a bit.”

Sasuke nods — and looks at him again; notices the dark grease smears on his cheek.

Kakuzu either doesn’t notice it or doesn’t care, but he’s walking around like almost all the time — not surprising, given his job, and still there’s something in this — something simple and human, reducing the initial threatening vibe.

It’s stupid, but Sasuke likes these little details about him.

“What is it?”  
  
Sasuke shakes his head, returning to reality. _Now’s not the time to daydream._

“You’ve got... on your face, here,” Sasuke touches his own face, suppressing the urge to reach out and touch him instead.

“Hm?” Kakuzu rubs his cheek but ends up only smearing the dirt, and it’s weirdly... funny — Sasuke looks at him and can’t help but smile slightly.

Hidan snorts, clearly barely holding back laughter; and Sasuke is certain that his reaction is to blame.

“Seriously,” Kakuzu grimaces, almost puts a hand to his forehead but stops midway. “Sometimes I feel like I’m a running a kindergarten. Go do something useful and stop wasting time.”

Sasuke definitely needs to work on his communication skills some more.

Working with Hidan turns out to be not as bad as Sasuke expected — at least when he’s silent.

“Hey, Uchiha.” Too bad that he can’t stay silent for long. “What do you even see in him?”

Hidan looks at him expectantly, obviously not going to drop this topic. Sasuke doesn’t want to answer and asks instead, “What do you see in Fuu?”

“I don’t— fuck!” Hidan huffs angrily. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

Sasuke shrugs indifferently.

Hidan should get a taste of his own medicine with these embarrassing questions.

“Well... she’s cool,” Hidan closes his eyes dreamily. “And cute. She’s fun and... it feels good to be around her.”

It actually sounds pretty nice — not what he expected from Hidan. Sasuke nods thoughtfully, not rushing to give his reply. He doesn’t want to — and he doesn’t know what to say.

What does he see... who knows. This casual interest had slowly grown into something more; but Sasuke definitely isn’t going to speak about those strange emotions overwhelming him, about the damn coffee he never liked but now drinks too often, or about the fact that with Kakuzu he feels calm for the first time in a long while—

Or anything, for that matter.

Especially not with Hidan.

Surprisingly enough, Hidan doesn’t insist, as if he wasn’t that interested to begin with; or maybe he just realized that he won’t get anything out of Sasuke.

In any case, they don’t have a chance to continue the conversation.

The door suddenly opens, and Fuu runs into the room — she greets Sasuke with a bright smile, as if she’s completely forgotten about the recent argument, and asks curiously, looking at them, “Whatcha talking about? Who’s cute?”

“You are. Hidan just said that.” Sasuke says.

It’s not revenge or anything — just... why not.

She immediately lights up, looks at Hidan, her smile growing wider. “Oh! Really? You think so?”

“No! I mean, I don’t wanna say you’re _not_ cute, but...” Hidan looks helplessly at Sasuke, but he’s not going to assist. “Fuck! Uchiha! Asshole!”

Fuu giggles and puts her hand over his mouth. “Don’t swear,” she says, and Hidan blushes, looks away, frowning in an attempt to find a decent reply.

He never does, even when Fuu removes her hand, he stays silent — but still smiles back at her, which comes out a little awkward — and shy.

 _Funny,_ Sasuke thinks.

Over time he’s almost forgotten what being around people can feel like, and he’s still sometimes taken aback by how _open_ these two are. But — this is normal; and it’s Sasuke who doesn’t fit in at all.

He does feel out of place — though perhaps less than before.  
It’s like he’s getting used to them.

It doesn’t seem like Fuu is still upset with Sasuke, and maybe she really isn’t — but it feels wrong to ignore what happened, and Sasuke — unexpectedly even for himself — speaks.

“Fuu.” She freezes, turns and looks at him questioningly. He licks his lips nervously, unsure where to start — but still forces himself to say, “I’m sorry... for that time. I acted like a jerk.”

She tenses for a second but then smiles, gently and calmly. “It’s okay, I told you. We all say some dumb things sometimes.”

“Did you hurt her?” Hidan interrupts them, piercing Sasuke with a cold stare, and the awkwardness seems to fade away all of a sudden.

“It was just a little misunderstanding.” Though it doesn’t seem to calm him down.

“Don’t worry, Hidan,” Fuu adds. “If anyone hurts me, you’ll be the first to know.”  
Hidan coughs nervously, looking away.

Fuu suddenly grabs his hand, pulls him closer and gestures Sasuke to come as well.

“Friendly hugs, Sasuke!” she explains, noticing his confusion. “The best way to put all the bad stuff behind us. Come here!”

Sasuke begrudgingly takes a step towards them. He has to admit, it’s not unpleasant, rather quite... _nice_ ; still, he only lasts a couple of seconds until he struggles out of their arms and backs away as far as possible. Fuu, surprisingly enough, doesn’t object — only holds Hidan tighter, laughing, and Sasuke thinks that this whole thing was just an excuse for... not so friendly hugs.

Though who is he to say something against it?

Leaving them alone, Sasuke goes to search for Kakuzu — to tell him that the work is done and to leave already; but he stays, not fully understanding why. Kakuzu doesn’t ask him for help — Sasuke offers it, even though his skills are far from perfect. Kakuzu agrees, though slightly surprised.

“I could always use another pair of hands,” he says and adds, “Unless, of course, they belong to Hidan.” And he grins a little.

Sasuke raises the corners of his lips too, walking up to the car.

Like the last time, they barely talk — Kakuzu is too immersed in work and Sasuke doesn’t want to distract him without a reason — but this silence feels strangely comfortable, perhaps, because they’re together.

Sasuke suddenly thinks that he actually doesn’t know that much about Kakuzu; but _he’d like_ to know.

Though he doesn’t know how — no one would enjoy being asked a load of personal questions more resembling an interrogation — and that’s what it would be like if Sasuke dared to ask.

So he just watches, trying not to make his interest too obvious.

Working together is a good excuse for that, and Sasuke enjoys spending time with him; even if they don’t talk a lot, there’s no tension between them anymore. One could call it a beginning of a friendship — Sasuke chuckles grimly at his own thoughts.

He wants something more.

But he’ll have to be content with what he has.

“Damn,” Kakuzu mutters, frowning. Something seems to be going wrong — or just more difficult than he thought. “I knew this one wouldn’t work. Get me a smaller screwdriver, will you?” he asks, not raising his head; meanwhile switching to something else.

Sasuke nods, even though he won’t see it, and proceeds to search the toolbox. There’s no screwdriver he needs — only the bigger ones, and Sasuke coughs quietly, calling for attention. “It’s not here.” He looks through the tools one more time just to make sure. “Where could it—”

“Ah.” Not waiting for him to finish, Kakuzu points somewhere to the left. “Look there.”

Sasuke is used to him not being much of a talker; so he shrugs and goes to the table in the corner of the room.

It’s strange, but Sasuke feels better now — calmer, at least. Turns out if he has something to keep his hands busy, all the unwanted thoughts go away. Perhaps, Kakuzu’s presence has something to do with this, too; Sasuke bites his lip, but this particular thought doesn’t want to leave.

Well, no matter — everything is fine.

Among the tools laid out on the table Sasuke notices an old, slightly faded newspaper cutting. The text is in English, which is surprising in itself — and there’s a photo of young dark-haired woman who for some reason seems familiar. Sasuke is certain he’d never seen her before, but something elusive in her thin features keeps reminding him of someone.

He skims through the text — it’s been a while since he last read in English, and he has to pause at some words, remembering their meaning. This woman went missing or was kidnapped; according to the date, it happened about ten years ago.

But why would Kakuzu keep such an old article? He knew this woman?

Sasuke shrugs and keeps reading. _’Miyuki Kaetsu’s body was found on the side of the road...’_ — Sasuke shudders, remembering a similar phrase, embedded in his memory.  
_‘Haruno Sakura was found dead in the university dorm’_ — and the realization that it was real after all, not a dream.

Sasuke grits his teeth and shakes his head, chasing the memories away — not now.

The police never found the murderer, but does it matter? Sasuke knows who killed her.  
Even if there is no proof.

Sasuke looks at the photo again; the woman in it — Miyuki, he repeats to himself — is smiling softly and a bit sadly, and Sasuke has this weird feeling that her dark eyes are staring back at him.

Nonsense; what is he even thinking.

“Are you going to stand there forever?” Kakuzu’s irritated voice pulls him from his thoughts, and Sasuke turns to him, only now remembering what he wanted to do.

“A moment,” he replies, grabs the screwdriver — which was conveniently lying in plain sight — and gets back to the car.

“Is everything alright?” Kakuzu asks, giving him a strange look. It’s unlikely that he guessed... though if he remembers leaving the cutting there, it’s easy to assume Sasuke could be interested by it.

Sasuke thinks about asking him about the article and that woman, but something tells him it’s not the best idea. After all, it’s none of his business. No matter how Sasuke wants to know, it’s clear he’s not the one Kakuzu would confide in.

“Just got lost in my thoughts,” he smiles, a little strained.

Kakuzu looks at him for some more time but then nods. They continue working in silence, only exchanging a few words now and again.

Sasuke thinks they finish rather quickly — but when they go outside to get some fresh air, he sees that sun has almost set.

“Yes, sometimes you don’t notice how quickly the time goes by,” Kakuzu says, noticing his confusion. “Thanks, by the way. It’d have taken me much longer on my own.”

There’s nothing special in these words, but somehow the tension which had almost disappeared returns; and Sasuke asks the first question that comes to mind to distract himself from it.

“What do you need Hidan for?”

He’s supposed to be Kakuzu’s assistant, but every time Sasuke sees him, all he does is carry the boxes with tools and spare car parts, though mostly he just wanders idly.

“You don’t want that kid anywhere near cars,” Kakuzu snorts. “I’ve tried so hard to teach that idiot at least something... he can’t tell a socket wrench from a hex key.”

“Why are you still keeping him around, then?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” he muses. “Maybe I feel sorry for him.”

“Oh. Unexpected altruism.”

“I wouldn’t say that. It’s actually... quite a long story.”

_‘I’ve had enough problems with Hidan, do you want to get in trouble with the police too?’_

Sasuke wonders what kind of troubles did Hidan have; is Kakuzu talking about that now?

“I’m not in a hurry,” Sasuke looks at him expectantly, but Kakuzu shakes his head.

“Maybe another time.”

Sasuke doubts that this other time will ever come — but he doesn’t insist, seeing how Kakuzu isn’t in the mood to tell him. He could ask Fuu or Hidan himself... as a last resort.

The conversation goes nowhere again.

Sasuke watches Kakuzu open the water bottle and drink in big, greedy gulps, tilting his head back. The cold reddish light of setting sun lights his face, making so well-known features seem almost unfamiliar for a short moment.

Yet still — strangely beautiful.

Once again Sasuke thinks how foolish it is, to be that fascinated by such insignificant actions and gestures. But — as long as Sasuke just watches, it must be alright.

As if interpreting his stare in his own way, Kakuzu hands the water to him. Sasuke nods in appreciation, tries to take the bottle carefully, so as not to touch him. Sasuke fails at that, and isn’t sure if he can say it was an accident — or he intentionally brushed his fingers over Kakuzu’s. Sasuke jerks back too quickly; instead of drinking the water — only now he realizes how dry his mouth is — he hesitates, remembering the fleeting warmth of his hand.

Only a minute later, as if coming to his senses, Sasuke empties the bottle. Water cools his throat — but it’s not enough to clear his mind.

Kakuzu is standing too close. He smells of gasoline and motor oil, a smell already familiar to Sasuke, somehow inspiring calm — and also a complete opposite feeling.

Sasuke closes his eyes, takes a deep breath — but still thinks about things he shouldn’t be thinking about.

Yet again he finds himself wanting to kiss Kakuzu; or at least to touch his face — is his skin soft? just as warm as his hands? He wants to say all those stupid and naive words; he wants to hold him, press closer against him, inhale his scent—

_to make a different smell, of blood and pain, stuck in his memory, go away._

Sasuke wants too much.

Kakuzu half-closes his eyes, looking at the setting sun, and says something that Sasuke isn’t really listening to. He’s not that interested, in fact, but he likes standing here next to him, listening to his voice, not thinking about the meaning of the words — and his own stupid thoughts fade away, and it seems that everything is right — how it should be.

A nice self-deceit, warming him inside.

Sasuke watches how Kakuzu runs his fingertips along the scar, hardly paying attention, and his gaze darkens — as though he’s thinking about or remembering something unpleasant.

Once again Sasuke doesn’t manage to keep his curiosity to himself — and asks without thinking, “Where did you get this scar?”

Kakuzu tenses in a second — gives him a short hostile look and turns away.

“A reminder of my wilder days,” he almost hisses through his teeth.

Sasuke feels awkward yet again for asking what he shouldn’t have; he knows from experience that there are some things you better not ask about. He feels like he should apologize — but somehow it seems like it won’t do much.

Kakuzu sighs and says quietly, “Forget it.”

His voice sounds softer, not angry as Sasuke expected; but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Before leaving, Kakuzu touches his shoulder lightly — Sasuke flinches but doesn’t move. The touch that’s supposed to be calming still frightens him, but he doesn’t want to show it.

Sasuke watches Kakuzu go toward the house; doesn’t look away even when he disappears inside.

Left alone, Sasuke is in no rush to return — his good mood is gone, just like the calmness, and his thoughts are a total mess, the moments he wanted to forget coming back to him again.

Itachi never was so... unobtrusive even when faking tenderness; why is Sasuke even thinking about him again, why is he comparing them?

He just shouldn’t think about him.

Then it will be alright.

Sasuke clenches his fists, nails digging into the skin — a painful grin twists his mouth, and he wants to laugh or scream — but somehow manages to stay silent.

If he’s going to fix something, he’ll have to start with himself — and nothing will probably fix him.

Sasuke is still the only guest in the small hotel, and it’s good — there’s no one here to bother him.

The receptionist whose name he never remembered isn’t at her usual place today — it’s not important, but Sasuke still notes this strangeness. Usually she’s always behind the counter, even though she’s doing anything but her actual job. Not that she had much work to do.

But right now, Sasuke couldn’t care less about her. His thoughts are already a mess.

Lying on the narrow bed in his room, Sasuke stares at the ceiling — he feels tired, but sleep isn’t coming to him.

Sasuke closes his eyes and thinks, for some reason, not about today at all.

He thinks about Kakuzu’s rough hands in dark oil stains, about the wrinkles in the corners of his tired eyes, about his body, strong and warm, that he wanted so desperately to feel against his own.

And he remembers those words — ‘don’t come near my daughter’ — even though they’ve cleared that up long ago.

Sasuke isn’t too well-versed in determining what people feel towards him. Fuu seems to think of him as someone adult and smart — someone to admire.

Only Sasuke doesn’t feel any of that in himself — too often he still feels like a child, lost and weak, who never knew life and who’s too ‘adult’ — in years — to begin to know it.

_Hard leather of the belt chafes his wrists; have you learned your lesson yet, foolish little brother?_

He’s learned it too well — and at the same time hasn’t at all.

Sasuke doesn’t think he knows how to love — right; and this strange hot and dark feeling inside scares him almost more than Itachi’s cold hands that never leave his dreams.

“You love me, Sasuke?”

“Of course, nii-san!”

“Yes” — a little later.

“No, I hate you” — a few more years later and until the very end.

And ‘love’ is still something forbidden and vile.

Sasuke is used to believing it.

_“You can’t love anyone but me.”_

Does he have to _love_?

For Naruto and Sakura there was a simple word — friend.

But Sasuke watches Kakuzu with some kind of greedy curiosity, picking up the smallest and most insignificant details.

And he remembers it all later, thinking about it over and over.

A barely noticeable, reserved smile; and Sasuke’s fingers itch with desire to touch, trace the old scar — go far beyond personal boundaries.

And his skin, always covered in bluish-black smears he doesn’t notice or ignores; too consumed in his work, he brushes his hair away from his face — and Sasuke wants to touch him himself.

He doesn’t know how exactly — he just wants to, and people don’t touch ‘friends’ like that.

These thoughts are wrong — he shouldn’t be feeling that, but this disgust for himself is somehow completely overlapped with tenderness and warm feeling inside — each time he looks at Kakuzu.

Sasuke doesn’t know what to compare it with — like fire burning inside his chest, and it burns so much that it gets painful and hard to breathe — but there’s something pleasant in this pain, and he wants to experience it over and over again.

It’s a desire — of something more than to simply embrace or even kiss; to feel him close, skin on skin, to never let him go — and there’s fear, almost forgotten.

_“Only I can touch you”_

And with this fear comes something new and unfamiliar — Sasuke wants to know how it can be when it’s good, when there’s no pain and cold ripping through his body.

Sasuke grits his teeth and tries to breathe steadily to calm down — and this cold, suffocating fear is mixing with the heat inside, the disgusting feeling of helplessness — with realization he’s free.

No one forces him, no one orders him, no one tells him what to do — Sasuke can decide for himself.

And he wants to get up, to find Kakuzu, grab his hands and, looking into his eyes, tell him — everything, trying to convey at least a little of what doesn’t let him sleep — _live_.

Sasuke forces himself not to move, squeezes his eyes shut and shivers; he doesn’t think — at all.

But even so, the image is imprinted in his mind — a sharp profile, deep scar going along the cheek, intent gaze — in which Sasuke wants to see tenderness.

He can deny it all he wants — nothing will change.

Love — it still sounds _wrong_ — but it’s pointless to lie to himself.

And he no longer has to follow any rules — nobody sets them for him anymore.

_Sasuke falls asleep — and in his dream he’s running through the long hallway, ignoring the dull pain in his body; and behind his back Itachi’s steps echo from the walls — his impending doom._

_“You’ll come back to me anyway, my little brother.”_


	3. Chapter 3

Thoughts about that woman in the photo haven’t left Sasuke for a while — and he doesn’t understand what exactly piqued his interest. It certainly doesn’t concern him — he shouldn’t think about it, but he still has a strange feeling that he’s seen her before.

Even a trip to a nearby city with Fuu doesn’t distract him — to be honest, Sasuke didn’t really want to go anywhere today, but she needed help with shopping. And doing something is surely better than to keep drowning in memories that don’t cause anything except more self-loathing.

Fuu is the one talking most of the time, telling him something; Sasuke only occasionally puts in a word or two, all the while trying to remember where he could have seen that woman.

On one hand, he’s sure he _couldn’t_ have — but there was something very familiar in her, as if he knew her well or saw recently.

A sudden realization makes him look more closely at Fuu’s face.

Of course — how did he not think of it sooner?

If he imagines her slightly paler and with black hair — her natural color, actually — the resemblance becomes apparent.

He might be mistaken, of course; but he’s curious, and so he decides to ask her directly.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” she replies.

“What... what happened to your mother? You mentioned an accident before, I think...”

“To mom?” Fuu looks at him, confused, obviously not understanding why Sasuke would want to know about that, and sighs before answering. “Yeah... It’s been a while, like ten years since she died.”

“I’m sorry,” Sasuke says awkwardly. He’s never been good at such conversation; and he feels uncomfortable reminding her about this.

“It’s okay,” she waves her hand dismissively. “I don’t remember a lot. I was just a kid. Why’d you ask?”

“Just curious.”

Sasuke doesn’t know how he could ask Fuu to show him some pictures of her mother — how he could explain this sudden interest; but she suddenly brings it up herself.

“You know, dad got rid of all her pictures,” she says. “Didn’t leave any. I don’t know, maybe it was easier for him... but I wanted to have something to remind me of her. That mom... really was here, something like that. I... don’t really remember much about her.”

Sasuke is silent, unsure what to say to that. Fuu shakes her head, suddenly smiling. “Well, I got lucky one of dad’s friends had some pictures. I don’t know him very well, seen him a few times. He and dad don’t really keep in touch anymore. But he still agreed to send me the pictures when I contacted him... well, I won’t bore you with details.”

She hands her phone to him. “Here.” Her look becomes a little sad. “This one’s my favorite. Not like I have a lot of them, of course...”

Sasuke looks at the photo, silent. It’s hard to recognize Kakuzu — with his hair short, no scar and an impossibly happy smile on his face — he doesn’t look like his current self. He doesn’t smile like _this_ now — so genuinely and brightly. Sasuke’s gaze lingers at him for too long. Only after a while, as if waking up, Sasuke shakes his head and looks at the woman next to him — Kaetsu Miyuki in a wedding dress, indistinguishable from that photo from the newspaper; only here there is no hint of sadness in her smile, and her eyes are glowing with happiness.

So he was right. Looking at Fuu and Miyuki at the same time, it’s hard not to notice the resemblance.

Fuu is silent, expecting him to say something, and Sasuke raises his head.

“You look a lot like her,” he says.

“Really?” Fuu’s face lights up. “I think mom’s much prettier.”

“I’m not an expert in female beauty,” Sasuke chuckles. “But I think you’re very pretty.”

Fuu laughs — well, at least he could cheer her up — and waves him off, slightly blushing. “Quit it, Sasuke, or I might just think you do have a crush on me!”

Sasuke shakes his head, holding back a smile. Alas, Fuu is too good for him.

Fuu takes her phone back, looks at the photo for some time — and suddenly frowns, glances at Sasuke and back at the screen.

She’s focused and seems uncertain for a reason. Sasuke doesn’t know what she’s thinking about.

“Something wrong?”

“Not really,” she mutters. “Just... no, it’s fine, forget it.”

“Sorry.” Sasuke quickly touches her hand in an awkward attempt to comfort but jerks back almost instantly. “I didn’t mean to upset you with all these questions.”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Fuu cuts him off.

Sasuke nods.

An uneasy silence falls over them again, and Sasuke feels guilt gnaw at him — he should’ve kept his curiosity to himself.

He leans back against the fall, closing his eyes, half-listens to Fuu looking for something in the shopping bag — the quiet rustling brings back the memories.

Sometimes it seems like Sasuke has every sound, action or feeling associated with something. Sometimes these are good memories, and sometimes not.

“Want some?”

He opens his eyes, looks at the chocolate bar Fuu’s handing to him and shakes his head. “I don’t like chocolate.”

_But Sakura did._

“Your loss,” Fuu gives him a grin, unwraps the candy and bites into it, visibly enjoying herself. Stopping for a second, she adds, slurring the words slightly, “Don’t complain if you change your mind later.”

Sasuke holds back a bitter smile.

These memories are about equally good and bad. Back then he still believed that all bad things had been left behind, that everything would be alright soon — because he had friends by his side who knew everything and still accepted him; and Itachi wasn’t there, he was somewhere far away, in the farthest corners of his mind, as if he’d been just a dream.

But, as it turned out, he was real — and he came back to take what belonged to him.

_The letter, where Sasuke only read the first line — “dear brother” — remains on the table; really, it’s just a letter, nothing more — there must be something wrong with Sasuke. That must be why he slowly slides down to the floor, struggling to breathe, why he feels cold creeping inside his body._

_And all this shouldn’t bother anyone; so Sasuke shakes his head and pushes their hands away, when Naruto and Sakura lean over him, worried — “Sasuke, are you okay?”, “let’s take you to the infirmary” —_

_There’s no need._

_It’s alright,_ Sasuke repeats to himself, closes his eyes — it has to get better someday.

The scars on his hands itch painfully, like fresh healing wounds, but touching them means drawing attention. It’s hard not to succumb to another one of his little habits; mostly because he feels someone else’s fingers, strong and tenacious, smearing drying blood all over his skin; not even close to caress, but Itachi considered it such.

For a moment it seems so real that Sasuke raises his head, expecting to see a face he’s known since childhood — but, of course, he does not.

Itachi is not here.

 _You hear me, Itachi — you won’t get me;_ it’s stupid, but a little bit of confidence returns when Sasuke says it to himself.

“Itachi? Who’s that?” Fuu’s confused voice brings him back to reality.

His name, spoken in her voice, seems to make the image from the memories tangible, vivid and clear.

Sasuke shudders, looks around again — no, no; he clenches his fists, staring at her — how did she know?

Sudden realization hits him.

“Hidan told you?” he asks — it comes out harsher than he intended.

Fuu frowns, looking at him with concern and a bit of fear.

“What’s Hidan got to do with it? You just said that name yourself... Are you alright? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

Weird. Yes, probably.

The usual ‘I’m fine’ that escapes his lips doesn’t seem to convince her at all.

She says something else, insists again, demanding, “tell me what’s wrong with you.”

Everything — and a little more.

 _Wrong_ — his trembling fingers and the burning slap to his cheek, the scrapes on his knees and the unnatural aching pain; and, really, there’s no one to blame. No one.

Sasuke ignores the outstretched hand, rushes past her, because the illusion of ‘everything is fine’ is falling apart with each word.

They both said something wrong. They don’t know each other well enough to avoid unpleasant topics, and it’s foolish to expect otherwise; but still he feels sick, when for a few too long seconds his memory brings him back to the days he doesn’t want to remember at all.

“Sasuke...”

He doesn’t pay attention, getting on the bike — he wants to get as far away from her as possible, away from everyone, he just doesn’t want to see anyone.

And it’s not about Fuu, it’s about himself — about his weakness which doesn’t go away no matter how hard he hides it, it’s still there; damn memories, poisoning him from inside, as if tying him up — worthless, useless, weak—

Sasuke suffocates — the wind hits him in the face, not letting him breathe, and helplessness constricts his chest again — it’s alright, it’s alright; he barely sees where he’s driving, managing to turn at the last moment to avoid crashing into a passing car. Sasuke hears the horn and the driver’s cursing — but he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t think he’d care now even if he was hit.

Maybe he’d even be glad.

But he has no chance to find out.

He doesn’t notice how he gets back to the town — and he probably wouldn’t have.

“What the fuck, you idiot!” But a voice brings him out of this strange trance, and Sasuke jerks his head — sees Hidan’s face, completely mad, closing in fast. “Watch where you’re—”

Sasuke doesn’t understand just how he manages not to hit Hidan — must be his reflexes saving the day just in time. He slams on the brakes, turns the handlebars sharply — goes dangerously close, missing Hidan only by a few inches; but it seems his luck has run out for today.  
His next stop is the fence, into which he crashes with full force, losing his orientation for a few seconds. Everything is blurry before his eyes, all sounds seem muffled, but there’s no pain. Sasuke isn’t sure he hasn’t broken anything but hopes he hasn’t — the speed wasn’t that high. He recalls vaguely that it’s possible to die even if you simply trip and fall. Well, he’s alive anyway.

He doesn’t want to get up — though he probably won’t be able to. Sasuke notes that his legs are pinned down by the bike, not really letting him move.

“Hey!” Sasuke blinks, turns to where the sound came from, trying to focus his eyesight. “Uchiha, are you alive in there?”

Hidan is next to him in a second, grabs him by the shoulders and shakes a few times. Sasuke grimaces from the pain that pierces his head, feeling sick; tries to push Hidan away, but his hands don’t obey him.

“Yeah, you are,” Hidan states, visibly relieved. “What a pity.”

Sasuke has no strength to argue with him, though he wants to say something along the lines of ‘let me die in peace’.

But that clearly won’t happen.

“Hidan, what the hell is going on—”

Irritation in Kakuzu’s voice gives way to surprise and something similar to concern — in a few steps he walks to them and kneels down. Sasuke squints, trying to make the blurred colorful spots before his eyes turn into something meaningful. After a while he manages to see Kakuzu’s face, worried and slightly angry.

“This idiot just crashed into the fence,” Hidan explains eagerly. “That looked pretty cool, by the way.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Kakuzu exhales wearily. “New problem every day... Are you alright?”

“Mm. Yeah.” Sasuke closes his eyes, hoping it will at least ease the headache — but it doesn’t help much. “I’m... good.”

Kakuzu sighs heavily, clearly not believing him. “Get the bike off him,” he tells Hidan.

“Why me?” Hidan, it seems, just can’t do anything without arguing.

“Do what I say,” Kakuzu slightly raises his voice.

Hidan mutters something under his breath, annoyed, but complies — without much care, but Sasuke is glad that his legs are finally free.

Sasuke feels a hand carefully touch his hair, slide down to his neck and gently lift him up — leaning on his elbows, he manages to sit up straight, suppressing another wave of nausea. He opens his eyes — this time, he sees more clearly, though the bright light still makes him want to close his eyes again.

“Hey.” Sasuke turns to Kakuzu, looking at him questioningly. “Can you stand?”

Sasuke nods and regrets it instantly, as spots begin to dance before his eyes, and the headache gets stronger.

“Don’t rush,” Kakuzu says.

Rush or not — Sasuke thinks he overestimated his strength. He really tries to get up but abandons this idea when his vision darkens. Why wasn’t he a little more careful...

“Alright, let’s do it the easy way.”

Sasuke doesn’t get the chance to object when Kakuzu slides one arm under his shoulders and the other under his knees — and then carefully but firmly picks him up.

“What are you...” Sasuke bites his lip — it’s hard to talk with his head spinning. “I can... walk myself.”

“I’m sure you can.” Kakuzu holds him closer, and Sasuke grips his shoulder, struggling to ignore the growing sense of danger inside. He’s helping him, damn it — there’s nothing to fear. “Don’t argue.”  
Sasuke doesn’t — he’s not in any condition for it, anyway.

“How fucking cute,” Hidan drawls sarcastically.

“Shut up,” Sasuke says weakly.

“Yes, please.” Kakuzu’s voice sounds annoyed again. “Put his bike somewhere, I’ll look at it later. And call Tsunade.”

Sasuke has no idea who this Tsunade person is.

“Today’s her day off,” Hidan reminds, apparently well aware who she is.

Kakuzu shakes his head, silent. Sasuke can feel his tension when they’re so close, and is nervous too — for a different reason.

“Then Shizune. Couldn’t you have thought of that?”

“How would I know, maybe you wanted to invite Tsu-san to dinner?” Hidan chuckles.

Sasuke presses his forehead against Kakuzu’s neck, squeezes his eyes shut, trying to somehow shield himself from this irritating voice — and at this moment, he doesn’t think of anything, and even the familiar fear is gone.

Kakuzu tenses more but doesn’t comment on it. He just turns around abruptly and says,

“Hidan, don’t make me mad.”

Sasuke already regrets his stupid impulse, but he can’t undo it, and trying to keep his distance now would be even more pointless.

Besides — he feels so calm like he hasn’t felt in a long time, and it’s weird — but good.

Kakuzu carefully puts him on the couch, and Sasuke quietly exhales with relief, relaxing. His head still hurts, but the weakness is slowly fading — it doesn’t seem too bad.

“So, should I make the call?” Hidan asks. “Or our tough guy here doesn’t need any doctors?”

With an effort, Sasuke forces, “No need. I’ll just... rest a little.”

“Are you sure?”

Kakuzu seems to be worried about him, and it’s... unexpected, because really, who is Sasuke to him — just his daughter’s annoying friend.

“Yes.” Sasuke would have simply nodded, but he doesn’t want to risk moving now.

“And I am not.” Kakuzu leans over him, examining him — and his face is _too_ close; and yet there’s no discomfort. “You look like you’re going to die any second. What will I do with the corpse?”

“Bury it in the backyard,” Sasuke grins faintly.

“Good idea,” Hidan says. “I’ll help. And Fuu will bring flowers to your grave.”

Sasuke _hates_ him — really, laughing hurts too much, but he still can’t stop, biting his lips. Maybe it’s a bit nervous — but it doesn’t matter now.

Kakuzu doesn’t laugh but clearly has trouble keeping a straight face. “Alright,” he says. “But if it gets worse, tell me.”

“Fine,” Sasuke replies after a short pause.

He probably won’t. He doesn’t want to burden him any more.

Kakuzu sighs, as if he understood the unspoken — but says nothing. Instead he reaches out and lightly brushes away Sasuke’s hair, wet with blood, from his forehead, not touching the skin. A short flash of pain makes Sasuke wince — seems like he did hit his head rather hard.

Kakuzu turns back.

“Hidan, go get the medkit.”

“Already did.” Hidan grins and hands Kakuzu something that upon closer inspection turns out to be a bottle of antiseptic and a pack of cotton pads.

“Oh, so you can you be useful after all,” Kakuzu says dryly.

He helps Sasuke to sit up, examines him intently — it’s somewhat embarrassing, and Sasuke asks, trying to detach from this weird feeling, “Is it bad?”

Kakuzu shakes his head. “No, just a scrape. But we need to treat this. Just in case.”

Sasuke doesn’t care, so he just shrugs.

He feels lightheaded again, though not as much as before — maybe it was a mistake to sit up — but he isn’t going to complain.

Kakuzu gently touches his chin, forcing him to raise his head; Sasuke exhales through his teeth, trying to chase away the feeling of anxiety.

“Don’t be so scared,” Hidan says — why is he still here? He should have gone long ago. “Do you want me to hold your hand?”

“Fuck off,” Sasuke hisses in response to his laughter. Sudden cold makes him flinch when Kakuzu presses a pad soaked in antiseptic to his forehead. It doesn’t hurt — well, maybe a little.

It’s more frightening, but Sasuke tries not to think about it.

“Looks worse than it actually is.” Kakuzu chuckles quietly, wipes the crusted blood, more careful now.

Sasuke tries to concentrate on his voice to distract himself — and he almost succeeds.

“Tell me what — where’s Fuu? She was with you.”

“She...” Sasuke frowns, trying to collect his thoughts. “She must be still in the city. Or on her way. We...” he’s not sure how to call it. Had a fight? Not really. It was more of a misunderstanding. “We kind of... misunderstood each other.”

“So, you had a fight?” Kakuzu wonders, seemingly indifferent. “Stay still, will you.”

Sasuke complies, while he continues with treating the scrape. It’s still hard to keep from shivering whenever his warm fingers touch the skin, but the fear almost fades, as if accepting the logical argument — Kakuzu is helping him, not trying to hurt him.

And there’s this thought he tries to chase away — it’s _no more_ than help; though he had no reason to expect anything else.

“Not really... just...” Sasuke winces — it still isn’t quite pleasant. “She asked me about something... that I don’t like talking about. I... lost my temper a bit. And left. Almost got hit by a car, and now...”

“You have to pay me to fix the fence,” Kakuzu continues, amusement flashing in his eyes. Sasuke isn’t sure why, but slightly smiles back at him. “Or fix it yourself.”

“I’d rather pay,” Sasuke says, feeling the tense atmosphere finally dissipate. “I’m afraid the fence will look even worse after I try to fix it.”

“I’ll remember that.” Kakuzu moves back, looking him over. “I think that’s it. You alright?”

Sasuke shrugs. Fine. He’s been better — but he’s been worse, too, so there’s really nothing to complain about.

It’s hard to understand what Kakuzu is thinking, but for some reason Sasuke thinks he doesn’t believe in this silent ‘fine’ one bit.

“I’ll be right back,” Kakuzu says. “Make sure he doesn’t die here,” he adds to Hidan.

“Ugh, nothing’s gonna happen to him,” Hidan drawls, not sounding enthusiastic in the slightest, but doesn’t object.

Sasuke closes his eyes, hoping he’s not going to question him.

But it’s Hidan.

“What the hell were you doing, speeding like there was a maniac chasing you?” he wonders. “Or wait, maybe there was? Someone,” he waves his hand, clearly meaning a certain _someone_.

Sasuke grimaces.

“No. Everything’s fine,” he says with an effort. “You certainly have nothing to worry about.”

Surprisingly, Hidan falls silent. He looks at Sasuke strangely — almost sympathetically, though that’s not like him at all. At least he doesn’t bother him anymore, either with questions or fake pity, and Sasuke just ignores his presence.

They spend some more time in this tense silence until Kakuzu returns — rather quickly, actually.

“Here.” He literally pushes the hot mug into his hands, and Sasuke automatically takes it.

Warmth immediately spreads over his hands, and he takes a deep breath — the smell of coffee calms him down, once again reminding of safety and home.

“Thanks,” he says.

He’s not even sure why he’s so surprised. Coffee was to be expected.

Kakuzu nods — he’s not leaving and not saying anything, just looking at him. Sasuke doesn’t know whether to continue the conversation; he takes a small sip of coffee, careful not to burn his mouth.

He doesn’t really want to talk about anything. Or think.

“Okay,” Hidan suddenly smirks. “I’ll leave you two alone.” Saying that, he winks at Sasuke.

At least that’s good.

With Kakuzu silence is more comfortable for some reason — maybe because with him, Sasuke isn’t always expecting the worst like with Hidan.

In fact, it’s stupid to expect something like that from Hidan too — but Sasuke is too used to distance himself from everyone. Just in case. You can never be too careful.

There are just some people who he trusts a little more — maybe for no real reason.

“Look,” Kakuzu says seriously, and Sasuke raises his head, staring questioningly at him. “If something’s troubling you, don’t keep it to yourself. Sometimes... you need someone to talk to, and that’s alright.”

Sasuke looks away, not going to reply — but Kakuzu doesn’t wait for an answer, continuing,

“You know, I used to think like you. That I don’t need anyone’s help, that no one cares about my problems.” He pauses, as though thinking what to say next, and Sasuke looks at him — his empty eyes are impossible to read. “At first I could occupy myself, do something just not to think... not to think. It got harder. I left my daughter with the neighbors. Locked myself in the house and drank for two weeks straight. I remember wondering how we had so much alcohol.” Kakuzu doesn’t say what exactly had happened — what the reason was, but Sasuke thinks he can guess. “At one point I was close to putting a bullet through my head.”

He falls silent. Stays silent for a long while, as though completely forgetting about someone’s presence, absorbed in himself, until Sasuke dares to ask carefully, “What happened then?”

“Then?” Kakuzu grins wryly. “My friend broke into the house and knocked some sense into me. I can’t say that everything was great right away... but I felt better. Sometimes you just have to understand that, uh, someone cares what happens to you.”

He sighs and rises up, looking at Sasuke again, calm and serious. “What I want to say... don’t let it get to that. If you ever want to talk...” He frowns, snaps his fingers, as if trying to find words or fight off awkwardness. It’s obvious he’s also not used to such conversations. “Well, if you want to.”

How... inspiring.

But for some reason Sasuke feels so warm — and it’s clearly not because of the already cooling mug of coffee he keeps clutching in his hands.

“Thanks,” the words are stuck in his throat, but there’s no need for them — Kakuzu nods and puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.

This time, the touch _is_ calming.

“Sasuke!”

The door opens, and Sasuke barely manages to turn around before he’s clasped in a tight hug. He freezes, unsure how to react — but Fuu quickly pulls away, squeezes his shoulders and looks him in the eye — worried and almost frightened.

“Sasuke, are you okay?” She strokes his shoulder. “I was so scared when Hidan told me you crashed!” She glances at Hidan who walked into the room after her; he only shrugs and mutters something like, “well, he did.”

“I’m fine.” Sasuke pushes her away gently. “Really.”

“Yes, he just rammed head-first into the fence,” Kakuzu adds with a chuckle. “But I doubt there’s anything to damage in his head.”

Sasuke snorts but says nothing — doesn’t know what to say.

“I...” Fuu stutters, biting her lips nervously. “I wanted to... I’m sorry!” She says suddenly. “I didn’t know that’d upset you.”

“It’s fine,” Sasuke shakes his head. “It’s not your fault. I behaved like an idiot.”

“My, how self-aware,” Hidan grins, and for some reason Sasuke doesn’t snarl back at him, like always — only smiles a little.

He isn’t sure if it’s normal that with these people he feels so calm and at ease; but it’s definitely a good feeling.

_Naruto is the first person he meets at the university. Well, it’s actually Naruto who approaches him, strikes up a conversation, making it impossible to keep silent or leave. Weird, but after Sasuke suppresses the first impulse to tell him to go to hell, this guy turns out to be quite nice — or maybe it’s all because of lack of communication._

_In recent years, Sasuke hardly spoke to anyone but Itachi._

_Now, perhaps, it’s a little overwhelming._

_“Meet Sakura,” Naruto says with the same cheerful smile which just can’t be genuine. “Sakura, it’s Sasuke — we’re in the same group!”_

_The girl with bright pink hair smiles — what’s there to be happy about, Sasuke thinks, feeling awkward — and holds out her hand._

_Sasuke wants to ignore it, but alienating people he’ll have to study together with for four more years on his first day isn’t exactly wise. Besides, Sakura doesn’t look dangerous — this is so stupid._

_Still, Sasuke only barely touches her hand, not even holding it._

_“Uchiha Sasuke,” he says, brushing off the awkwardness._

_Sakura laughs._

_“How formal. Then — I’m Haruno Sakura, pleased to meet you.” She exchanges glances with Naruto, still smiling, and Sasuke doesn’t want to know what she’s thinking about._

_“Same.” Sasuke isn’t sure if it sounds sincere._

_Isn’t sure if he wants to get close to these people._

_“You know, Sasuke-kun, your face looks kind of familiar,” Sakura says thoughtfully all of a sudden, looks at him. “Have we met before?”_

_Sasuke shakes his head._

_“No.”_

_“I still think I’ve seen you somewhere,” she keeps insisting._

_Sasuke replies, himself not sure why._ _“Last summer I won a motorcycle racing championship. You might have seen it on the TV.”_

_“Oh, yeah, that must be it,” Sakura’s face lights up. “Though I don’t really like this sport. I like figure skating and artistic gymnastics more... And what exactly was that championship? I want to watch it later.”_

_“No need to if you’re not interested.” Though it’s no trouble for Sasuke to tell her._

_“No-no,” she says. “I’m interested.”_

_“Oh, so you’re famous, ttebayo!” Naruto laughs and pats him on the shoulder — but immediately removes his hand, seeing Sasuke tense. He doesn’t comment on it, and Sasuke can’t help but feel grateful. “I’ve never met a celebrity before.”_

_“I’m not a celebrity,” Sasuke huffs, slightly annoyed._

_Though it’s mostly defensive._

_It seems, nobody is going to ask him about getting closer; but Sasuke is somewhat... glad with these two barging into his life like this._

_Maybe he sees it as a chance to finally be normal — not simply pretend to be one._

“So...” Fuu suddenly becomes serious. “Are you okay? Look, I’m not trying to pry, but you really look like shit.”

After what happened she doesn’t leave his side, keeps trying to find out what’s going on with him — and Sasuke would say she is _prying_. Not that it makes him so uncomfortable. He understands that Fuu is worried about him — even though he doesn’t deserve it — but he’s not going to tell her.

It’s not what she — anyone — should know.

And, though it’s selfish of him, he doesn’t want Fuu to think differently of him. He values their friendship — now he can say that with certainty — and isn’t ready to lose it.

“I always look like that.” It’s a pathetic excuse of a joke, but he can’t think of anything else.

“Oh, come on!” Fuu exhales angrily. “I see something’s wrong. Did something happen to you?” She awkwardly reaches out, pauses for a moment — probably remembering his previous reactions — but then firmly grips his hand. Sasuke shudders, but it’s more of a reflex. Everything is fine. “You know you can always talk to me. I’m a good listener.” Another short laugh she makes sounds grim. “Seriously. I know it gets like this sometimes... some shit happens, and you just need to talk to someone.”

Another generous offer in such a short time. If Hidan suddenly appeared, offering to cry on his shoulder, he wouldn’t even be surprised, Sasuke thinks, holding back a nervous chuckle.

Speaking of which.

“Have you picked up those words from Hidan?” Sasuke asks — he almost never heard Fuu swearing.

“What d’you mean!” she turns away, but he still notices the blush on her cheeks. “It’s just... no other way to say it. So?”

Sasuke shrugs, irritated. “‘So’ what?”

“Are you okay?” Fuu asks persistently.

“Yes.” He lies without hesitating, too used to it — she doesn’t need to know what’s really going on inside him.

“Why are you...” she lowers her head. “I’m worried, how don’t you get it?”

Sasuke does.

He just doesn’t want her to worry about him. Why doesn’t she worry about Hidan instead — he could use it more, and, frankly, he deserves it more than Sasuke.

Anyone deserves such concern more than Sasuke.

Fuu says nothing but clearly isn’t going to leave. She looks at him, her eyes flashing stubbornly; and Sasuke doesn’t know why he says, “My brother.”

This makes no sense. He can’t tell her _everything_ anyway... and still. Fuu deserves at least some explanation — even if he leaves most of the details out.

“What?”

“Itachi is my brother. Elder brother.”

“You haven’t mentioned him,” Fuu says.

Of course he hasn’t. Sasuke wishes he didn’t remember him at all; but he just can’t forget.

“I don’t like talking about him,” Sasuke chuckles faintly. “I’d say we don’t get along, but that would be... an understatement. But nothing you should worry about.”

“You sure?” Fuu looks at him warmly, with _sympathy_ even; she probably thinks it’s just some old quarrel between two brothers, which is _sad_ but nothing terrible.

If only she knew.

But Fuu isn’t Sakura or Naruto. Even if she understands — Sasuke can’t burden her with revelations like this, she doesn’t need his problems.

“Yes.” He keeps on a forced smile — more like a grimace, shakes his head. “It’s a long and boring story. It’s just that sometimes I... remember...”

He stutters, falls silent; Fuu waits, looking intently at him.

“He used to be a good brother,” Sasuke says finally. His voice breaks.

The best.

But it was so long ago.

“Don’t worry, Fuu.” Sasuke smiles — this time it seems to come out better. “I’m fine.”

He’s not — but who ever cared?

Sasuke types in the news site address — a habit that’s become routine lately — there’s nothing in the recent events that would interest him or make him worry.

Still, the anticipation of _something_ doesn’t go.

Sasuke puts the phone away, leans against the fence and tries to breathe in slow deep breaths — to not think about anything. It’s alright for now. He’s safe for now.

Itachi doesn’t know where he is — for now.

“What are you doing here?” A familiar voice brings him back to reality, and Sasuke turns around.  
Kakuzu looks at him, slightly surprised — he certainly didn’t expect to see him here in the middle of the night. To be honest, Sasuke didn’t intend to come here. It happened by itself.

Of course, that’s an awful explanation. So Sasuke says nothing.

Kakuzu sighs, tired and slightly annoyed, and Sasuke feels awkward again — for disturbing him, for barging into his life like this.

“Just go and sleep,” Kakuzu says. “What are you even doing out at night?”

“Just came to say hello.” Sasuke shudders, trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling of cold — despite wearing a thick leather jacket, he’s still freezing.  
The weather really is nasty — it’s insanely hot during the day and completely opposite at night.

“You’ve seen Fuu today.”

“Why do you think I mean Fuu?” Sasuke tries to smile — with a hint of a sort, but though he doesn’t see himself, he just feels it doesn’t come out right; and it’s even more stupid than his words. “Maybe I’ve come to see you.”

“Why me?”

“I don’t know.” Sasuke lowers his gaze, repeats helplessly, “I don’t know.”

He no longer feels any determination.

For some reason, Kakuzu says nothing, and Sasuke is somewhat grateful. He doesn’t know what else he could say, what idiotic excuse he could come up with.

Piercing cold is still there, and Sasuke rubs his palms, looks over his shoulder — squints, peering into the distance, as if _hoping_ to see someone — and at the same time fearing this more than anything.

He must be just too used to it, he thinks.

But there’s no one there.

There can’t be.

The street lamp light flickers, a bit dim. Sasuke frowns, confused, but decides it’s not worth his concern. Maybe the lamp’s burning out; nothing to worry about.

And he shouldn’t worry about all these thoughts flooding his mind, too.

“Something wrong?”

Sasuke raises his head — and immediately regrets it when his vision darkens for a second; weakness comes over him — but it fades fast.  
He shudders, trying to recover — it’ll be embarrassing if he passes out right here, as it happened before.

Just what’s going on with him lately.

“Sasuke. Is something wrong?” Kakuzu asks. Did he notice? Sasuke turns to him.

He tries to make it sound as natural as possible.

“No.” With an effort, he lets go of the edge of the fence he’s been clutching; his fingers feel numb. “Just... tired.”

“I’m telling you,” there it is again, this weird emotion in his voice — irritation or something else. “Go to sleep. That’s what normal people do at night.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping then?” Sasuke tries to joke, but it comes out poorly.

“I don’t recall saying I was normal.”

Sasuke can’t help but smile, though weakly; they both seem to be terrible at joking.

“I’m fine,” he says. “It’s just... I don’t know. Too many thoughts. Not all are pleasant. You ever get that?”

Kakuzu is silent for a long time before answering. “Always.”

Nodding awkwardly, Sasuke looks down again, studying his shoes. All covered in dirt and dust — he really should clean them; though what does it matter. He’s got no one to show off for here.

He feels so stupid again — really, why did he come here, what did he want? He can’t answer this question even to himself. Surely not a heart-to-heart talk.

Maybe... just to see him.

“Well, I...” Sasuke shrugs. “Hm. Yes.”

_What an amazing, meaningful speech, Sasuke._

He shakes his head, wincing at the sudden pain in his temple, and takes a step towards the road. His head is still spinning, and the ground approaches a little too fast — Sasuke realizes that he almost fell only when he’s firmly grabbed by the arm and jerked to his feet. Somehow he’s too close, his face pressed against Kakuzu’s shoulder.

It’s hardly an embrace, but _almost_ — and Sasuke thinks about pressing closer, but dismisses this thought immediately.

It’s enough like this.

“Easy there, don’t move yet,” Kakuzu says quietly, his hold getting stronger for a moment. “Are you feeling bad?”

Sasuke doesn’t reply, not understanding his own thoughts.

Right now it feels different than a few days ago; maybe, he thinks, because at the time there was no hidden meaning — there isn’t now either, but Sasuke still imagines it.  
This closeness _is_ pleasant, and Sasuke wants Kakuzu to never let him go — and at the same time he wants to be as far as possible, to run away — just to disappear.  
Too many sensations — they are too similar to those he wants to forget; and he can’t enjoy his touch without remembering somebody else’s.

And Sasuke hates Itachi even more now — he took everything from him, even such small things.

“No, I...” He swallows hard, backing away. “It’s fine.”

Kakuzu doesn’t let go right away, looks at him intently — as if he understands something; Sasuke isn’t sure. “Really?”

“Yes,” Sasuke repeats.

 _No_ — and as always, that’s enough.

No questions, no objections, ‘fine’ — and who cares if he really is.

Sasuke wants to scream again, but he holds back, clenches his fists, nails digging into the skin.

It doesn’t matter.

No one should care.

“No,” Kakuzu says suddenly, and Sasuke blinks, not sure at first just what he said. “Come,” he nods toward the house.

“Why...” Sasuke closes his eyes, shakes his head. What’s even going on?

“We’ll drink some coffee and talk,” Kakuzu explains, calm as ever. “Or we can just sit in silence, dying from awkwardness. Your choice.”

Finally recovering from the surprise, Sasuke chuckles uncertainly, “Is coffee your universal solution to all problems?”

“Much better than alcohol,” Kakuzu replies seriously but then suddenly grins.

Sasuke doesn’t smile back, but he feels slightly more at ease. And though it won’t be for long, it’s alright.

Sasuke pulls his knees to his chest, getting comfortable on the couch; squeezes the cup of coffee tighter, warming his hands. Kakuzu is sitting in the chair across him, hardly even looking at him.

“Sit in silence, dying from awkwardness”— that was pretty accurate.

Though it probably only applies to Sasuke — Kakuzu, it seems, doesn’t mind the silence at all. Maybe he’s thinking of something; maybe he’s just giving Sasuke time to gather his thoughts and courage... for something.

“I really like the coffee,” Sasuke says just to say something.

Kakuzu flinches barely noticeably and raises his head, finally paying attention to him.

“Thanks for the compliment,” he chuckles. “Would taste even better without sugar.”

“I disagree,” Sasuke puts the cup to his lips, doesn’t drink right away, just enjoying the smell. “It’d be bitter.”

“Kids,” Kakuzu chuckles quietly. “Fuu says that too. There’s less than one percent of actual coffee in hers. The rest is sugar.”

Sasuke smiles — but doesn’t get a chance to reply.

“Not at all!” A sleepy but still slightly indignant voice makes him turn around.

Fuu, just in her long t-shirt reaching mid-thigh, is standing at the door and rubbing her eyes sleepily, looking at them.

“Any reason you guys aren’t sleeping?”

She approaches them, smiles at Sasuke as if she’s not surprised at all that he came to visit them in the middle of the night — nothing weird, right?

“Not really,” Kakuzu says. “Insomnia. Want some coffee?”

“If you made it — sure.” She giggles quietly and sits on the couch next to Sasuke.

Sasuke feels slightly disappointed, though he’s not sure why. Maybe he was counting on something else.

Meanwhile, Kakuzu pours some coffee for Fuu, hands her the cup, which she quickly grabs with both hands.

“Thanks,” she smiles again, and Sasuke feels a little better — as if he’s with friends again, and all is well.

Though... why _as if._

Fuu closes her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee, and says thoughtfully, “Not enough sugar. You know I don’t like my coffee bitter... how do you even drink it?”

“Sugar taints the taste,” Kakuzu retorts. “You might as well drink that instant three-in-one crap instead of turning good coffee into something undrinkable.”

“Nah, instant coffee sucks,” Fuu grimaces. “But it doesn’t taste good without sugar.”

She reaches for the sugar bowl on the table, adds a few more spoons of sugar to her coffee, stirs it and takes a sip, expression of sheer delight on her face.

“It hurts me to look at that,” Kakuzu says. “I didn’t raise you like this.”

“I have to agree with Fuu on that one.” Sasuke feels a little awkward.

“See,” Fuu states victoriously. “You’re outnumbered!”

Kakuzu rolls his eyes, as if saying, “I’m so tired of your nonsense” — but doesn’t seem angry at all.

Actually, he looks almost happy — Sasuke can’t help but remember that photo. Yes, Kakuzu isn’t smiling so brightly now — he isn’t smiling at all, actually — but something in his eyes, his relaxed posture gives it away.

Sasuke always likes looking at him — but especially now.

And to hell with the talk, it would only make things worse.

Sasuke leans back on the couch, half-closes his eyes — he feels weirdly calm.

He’s safe — and it’s been a long time.

_It so happens that Sakura is the first to know everything. For some reason it’s easier to tell her; maybe because she somehow reminds Sasuke of mother — those blurry memories that sometimes come like a warm mirage in the morning, when sleep isn’t fully gone._

_Sakura listens silently — Sasuke sees horror in her eyes, but no trace of disgust. When he falls silent, she simply hugs him — firmly but gently, and for the first time in years Sasuke cries. Sakura strokes his hair and whispers something tender and soothing, and eventually the pain fades. In its place comes emptiness — and some kind of lightness after._

_When Sasuke tells Naruto, he reacts in his usual manner — “I’ll kill him, ttebayo!” — and immediately insists on going to the police._

_Sasuke almost laughs out loud. Really, what police, if there’s no evidence? And so much time has passed._

_But it doesn’t matter, not now. Now — he can finally rely on someone besides himself, he’s finally not alone; and even if Naruto and Sakura aren’t able to help him, they are still here, and it’s enough._

_For the first time he can trust someone._

Sasuke really doesn’t understand why Fuu brought him to the café with them. He feels out of place here, like a person in mourning on someone’s wedding, and it’s not the worst comparison — just the first that came to mind.

Fuu is entirely focused on her conversation with Hidan, laughing at his absurd jokes, telling her own — and it’s hard not to notice how comfortable they are around each other.

And Sasuke just sits silently, sometimes catching annoyed looks Hidan gives him — and he doesn’t leave only because it would be rude.

It’s weird. What is he, a moral support? Or was Fuu shy to invite just Hidan? Though they often spend time together, as Sasuke noticed.

“...Haven’t seen it myself yet, but they say the movie is great,” Hidan continues, showing Fuu something on his phone. “Maybe we...”

Sasuke’s had enough. Seriously, what is he doing here?

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Fuu looks back at him in confusion, shakes her head. “No, of course not!”

“Yes, you are.” Hidan frowns, looks at him angrily — and that’s a hint even Sasuke can catch.

One of Hidan’s few good qualities — bluntness which is necessary sometimes.

“You know, I better go,” Sasuke says, rising up. “Here, that’s for my order.” He hands Fuu a couple bills which she hesitantly takes.

“Why don’t you stay? Look, you didn’t even finish your coffee.”

Sasuke has no doubt that she’s only asking out of politeness.

“I don’t want any more,” he shakes his head. “And it’s disgusting here anyway.”

He thinks that he hears the waitress passing by them snort indignantly, but whatever, really. If they can serve such crap under the guise of coffee with a clear conscience, Sasuke isn’t going to apologize for his absolutely true words.

Hidan openly grins. “So you prefer... something home-made?” And he winks at him — damn him.

Sasuke shrugs, trying to seem indifferent — he won’t take the bait.

“At least then I won’t have to pay for it.”

“I’d argue...” Hidan says thoughtfully. “Though you always get special treatment.”

“Nonsense.” Sasuke thinks that at this rate he won’t ever leave. Hidan has an incredible talent for engaging people in meaningless conversations. “Alright, I really... have a good day.”

As he leaves, he can feel Fuu’s gaze on him — _I hope I didn’t offend her,_ he thinks distraughtly.

But, in the end, he really was bothering them.

Sasuke spends the rest of the day wandering aimlessly around the town, successfully avoiding the few people there are. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone or see anyone — though the latter might not be entirely true. Sasuke tries not to think of it — or anything at all.

He fails at that.

The absence of any news makes him way more nervous than if there was.

It might be paranoia, but Sasuke can’t stop thinking that Itachi is still looking for him.

He’d do anything to get Sasuke back.

It’s pointless. Sasuke won’t ever be that obedient toy again — he’d rather die.

He stops, clutches his head with his hands and takes a deep breath — no, stop thinking about it. If he keeps working himself up, it’ll only get worse.

Though can it get any worse than it is?

Sasuke feels sick and disgusted with himself — but it’s not something he can just ignore.

 _“Sometimes you just have to talk to someone,”_ he remembers now for some reason.

Sasuke isn’t sure. About anything. But at least after talking with Fuu it always gets easier — he doesn’t have to talk about what really bothers him.

Fuu is sitting on the ground next to the wall, hugging her knees. She looks really down, unusual for her — she doesn’t notice Sasuke until he approaches her, stopping literally a few inches away.

She raises her head sharply, seeming almost frightened; but as she recognizes him, she exhales with relief, pulls out her earphones and smiles — though it looks forced. Sasuke knows this smile well — too often he saw it in the mirror.

This expression doesn’t suit Fuu at all.

“Did something happen?” Sasuke asks carefully.

It’s obvious that _something_ did. He thinks it might be his fault, and he feels almost guilty — he was going to burden her with his problems again, while he probably has a lot of her own.

For some reason only now Sasuke thinks that Fuu always supports him — and he barely does anything for her in return.

“No, why would it...” She looks away. “It’s fine.”

“Is it because of me?” Sasuke looks intently at her. “If I upset you then...”

“It’s not you.” Fuu shakes her head. “Really, I’ve already forgotten.”

“Then what is it?”

“Hidan.” She bites her lip, says nothing for a long time, and Sasuke waits patiently for her to continue. “He’s just an idiot!”

 _A well-known fact,_ Sasuke almost says but manages to hold back. Did they have a fight or something... though everything was alright up until now.

“Idiot,” Fuu repeats helplessly in an almost childish tone, adds suddenly, “But I still... like him. Do you understand?”

 _I do,_ Sasuke could say, _better than you think._

But instead he just nods. “Yeah.”

To be honest, this was obvious from the start, but Sasuke keeps this remark to himself. Obvious or not — is it worth mentioning?

“It’s so stupid,” she shakes her head, frowning angrily — seems like she’s angry at herself. “I’ve always thought of him... I never thought of him in any way! It’s just that Hidan is, well, always around, and I kinda got used to it.”

“And now you’ve realized you like him more than a friend?”

“When you say it like that, it sounds awful,” Fuu chuckles quietly. “But... yeah.”

“Then tell him. It’s simple.”

What’s simple is giving such advice; and Sasuke himself definitely isn’t going to follow it. And it’s not his place to talk about how to confess your love to someone — it’s borderline funny.

“That’s the thing,” Fuu clenches her fists. “I don’t know how to say something like that. Just walk up to him and — ‘hey, I like you’? It’s stupid!”

“It’s not the worst option,” Sasuke says as softly as possible. “Even if your feelings aren’t mutual, it’s best if you know about it right away.”

And he prefers to remain silent; because this way he can imagine that not everything is hopeless, that, maybe—

Though he can’t hope for anything.

But it’s different for Fuu, and perhaps only a blind man wouldn’t notice how Hidan looks at her.  
If at least someone is happy — it’s good, Sasuke thinks.

“I’ll think about it,” Fuu finally says, biting her lips nervously. “Maybe you’re right. What’s the use just sitting here and moping?”

Sasuke nods — that’s right.

If only he had the courage to do the same — not just convince others.

“And you?” Fuu asks suddenly with a genuine interest, as if there was no fleeting sadness in her eyes. “Have you ever been in love?”

“I am now,” Sasuke says.

It’s harder to be honest with himself than with someone else — but no attempt to convince himself otherwise will change his feelings, no matter how wrong they may be.

“Does she know?” Fuu smiles, a little teasingly.

“He,” Sasuke corrects automatically — when he should’ve kept silent. “No, he doesn’t. It’s... complicated.”

Fuu slightly opens her mouth, her eyes rounding — Sasuke would smile at her funny expression, but right now he doesn’t want to smile at all. He just shrugs and turns away.

“Is it so bad?” she asks, genuine sympathy in her voice. “No chance at all?”

“No chance at all.”

But it’s not the worst that’s happened to him — he’ll handle it.

Unrequited love is better than the ‘love’ he had — painful and disgustingly _wrong_ , the one that remains in deep scars on his body and blurry nightmares even after so many years.

Sasuke closes his eyes, inhales deeply and _doesn’t think._

It’s better, indeed.

“Is that why you’ve been so... depressed?” Fuu asks softly.

If only, Sasuke thinks grimly. If only that was the biggest of his problems.

“I’m fine,” he says.

“I’ll believe that.” Fuu chuckles — it’s clear she doesn’t believe him one bit — and pats the ground beside her.

After some hesitation, Sasuke sits down next to her — close enough, but still keeping his distance. He’s not afraid — but maybe too cautious; though, it’s fine like this.

Meanwhile, Fuu holds out one earphone to him. “You like music?”

Sasuke shrugs. Not much, but he enjoys listening to some good songs now and then.

Why not.

Not that the song playing right now is very good — Sasuke finds it kind of dumb, though catchy.

And the lyrics sound like someone wrote them just to spite him.

At the first verse Sasuke raises his eyebrow, not understanding the wordplay right away — and, frankly, he’s not sure whether he wants to laugh or to ask, “what the hell”.

Fuu looks so innocent, as if she’s not hearing anything weird.

Maybe it’s just her favorite song — what’s the big deal?

She can’t possibly be hinting at something like this; and the song’s every line seems to be mocking him.

_Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn  
Your dad came out with just a towel on_

  
  
_If he really did,_ Sasuke thinks, _I’d love to see it_ — and he laughs nervously.

Has it really come to that?

Fuu turns her head, smiling a little. “A funny song, yeah.”

She gives him that sly look — as if she knows or at least suspects; oh, Sasuke wants to be wrong.  
But he would bet, though he’s not usually a gambling type, that Fuu did it on purpose.

The song goes on — Fuu taps her finger on her knee along to the rhythm, and Sasuke only grimaces when he hears:

_I know it might be sad  
But I’m in love with Stacy’s dad_

  
Because really, it’s pretty damn sad.

And it doesn’t matter that he still wants to laugh, because there’s nothing funny.

Not in the stupid song or the situation.

Not in his imagination that’s making his thoughts venture into inappropriate territory.

Sasuke closes his eyes; he feels Fuu lay her head on his shoulder but doesn’t move away — it’s fine. Right now, her being so close doesn’t make him too uncomfortable, though it doesn’t comfort him, either.

He wants to ask her to switch the damn song, but something doesn’t let him — he has no idea what to answer if she asks why.

It’s just a dumb song, Sasuke says to himself. Fuu doesn’t mean anything.

She doesn’t.

One more repeat of the chorus, and the song finally ends.

The next one is pretty neutral and even uplifting, judging by some words Sasuke notes vaguely — but he’s barely listening. He doesn’t care; maybe he’s just tired.

They sit like this for a long time, not saying anything; but for Sasuke it’s even better. He’s not ready for a conversation now — at all.

And he only hopes that Fuu really doesn’t suspect anything.

_Racing is Sasuke’s way to escape from what happens at home; and for some reason Itachi doesn’t deny him this illusion of freedom. On the contrary, he says that he’s proud of his beloved little brother, exhales it into his neck in between the kisses._

_Sasuke once again surpasses everyone on the track, showing the best results._

_Sasuke is on the verge of breakdown — has been for a long time._

_Racing is the only thing that keep him holding on, gives him strength — and hope that one day this never-ending nightmare will end. And for now — for some time he can escape, though he’ll have to return later._

_And everything will repeat._

_What will it be that Itachi doesn’t like this time — what will Sasuke do wrong this time?_

_Will he look too boldly, hesitate with the reply for too long, speak too loudly — it can be anything._

_Sasuke doesn’t appreciate all that Itachi’s doing for him._

_How can Sasuke be so ungrateful?_

_Rage and resentment flash inside him for a moment — and Sasuke wants to retaliate, to hit him, or even bite into his hand — but this impulse is almost immediately extinguished by familiar fear._

_Blade cuts through the skin — at first he only feels light pressure and the cold of metal; the pain comes later._

_The cuts are never deep, they aren’t meant to harm — only to teach a lesson._

_But the scars will remain forever._

_So that he doesn’t forget._

_Sasuke closes his eyes when Itachi runs a hand along his forearm, wiping away the blood — but it doesn’t stop, and cold fingers end up just smearing it. It’s unpleasant. And just a little — painful._

_Sasuke deserves it._

_Maybe._

_Itachi looks at him, not smiling anymore — his calm gaze shows no emotions. Sasuke wonders — does he like this? Or does he think he’s doing it out of necessity?_

_Sasuke has no answer to any question._

_“I’ve told you, Sasuke.”_

_His voice is calm and steady, too._

_Itachi is good at pretending._

_Who knows — maybe what Sasuke sees now is not a mask, but the real Itachi?_

_“I’m sorry, nii-san, it won’t happen again,” the words he learned by heart sound hoarse and barely audible._

_Sasuke wants to curl on the floor, hug himself and cry — but it’s weakness, and father taught them to never show their weakness._

_Itachi remembered father’s teachings better —_ all _of them._

_“I hope so, Sasuke.” Itachi pulls him closer, ruffles his already disheveled hair; almost gently, and if he forgets about everything... everything, he can pretend that there’s no pain, no cold, no devastating heavy feeling in his chest._

_That Itachi is still his beloved elder brother, always caring about him._

_That everything has always been great._

Helping Kakuzu in the workshop has become something like a habit to Sasuke — there’s nothing much to do around here anyway, and Sasuke clings to any excuse to spend time with him.  
Kakuzu doesn’t mind him helping — or even just being here. Sasuke thinks that he, too, is somewhat lonely — not like he has anyone to talk to except Fuu or Hidan.

Though it’s hard to say for sure.

They don’t exactly talk much unless it’s necessary. But as long as Kakuzu doesn’t tell him to leave, Sasuke has nothing to complain about.

What he feels at such moments is so close to happiness, a feeling he’d almost forgotten.

But today is different. Strange anxiety, growing with every second, drowns out all other feelings and thoughts, not letting him focus on anything — neither the work nor the conversation.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes.” Sasuke rubs his eyes, exhaling slowly. _It’s not_ , but what’s the point talking about it.

He forces himself to ignore the dull pain in his temples, though it takes some effort.

Itachi gave an interview today — or yesterday, and it was just published today? — talking about how worried he is about his brother, how he’s willing to do anything to find him; while keeping silent about the fact that if he could, he’d never let him go, would never let anyone even _look_ at him.

Sasuke is sick of this almost animal fear that comes over him at the mere thought of Itachi or the mention of his name.

But this fear is like a reflex.

_“I think we should leave all our... disagreements in the past, don’t you think so, Sasuke?” There’s a familiar soft smile and a dark gleam in his eyes. “We’re family, after all.”_

_“I’d rather have no family than this” — Sasuke presses his lips together, forcing himself to remain silent — and suddenly realizes that he really does not have any family._

_Mother, who disappeared from their lives when he was a child — who abandoned them; father who died in a car crash on Sasuke’s thirteenth birthday — who never had much affection for him._

_And Itachi._

_Bastard whom Sasuke would gladly stab in the eye with a dessert knife that’s conveniently lying right by his hand — but he does nothing of the sort._

_He just looks, tugging at the sleeves of his sweatshirt — just attracting more attention to what he’s trying to hide, what Itachi already knows; and he feels drawn to the darkness in his eyes._

_“It was your own fault,” Itachi says ever so casually, taking his hand — and Sasuke doesn’t have the strength to push him away. “If you had listened to me, I wouldn’t have had to punish you.”_

_Shut up — shut up._

_Itachi’s cool fingers almost gently stroke his hand, and Sasuke feels fear overwhelm him again. Yet again he can’t retaliate, can’t resist; and if Itachi wanted to do **anything** now, Sasuke would obey._

_Because for too long he had no choice._

“Maybe I should hire you instead of Hidan,” Kakuzu says, raises a hand to touch his scar; this unconscious gesture keeps fascinating Sasuke for some reason. “You’re sure more useful.”

Sasuke looks at him — and can’t help thinking how easy it would be now to take his hand and touch his face — a careful caress, not going too far.

He can imagine it surprisingly clearly — the way his own scars feel beneath his fingers is too familiar, and someone else’s are probably not much different.

Kakuzu’s possible reaction is more difficult to imagine — the only thing that comes to mind is rejection. Sasuke isn’t sure if there’s a point to expect anything else, though he wants to; but he has long stopped hoping for a good outcome for himself.

And there’s no use thinking about all of this — why, if these thoughts won’t lead anywhere.

It’s strange, actually — when it gets a little easier compared to how it usually is; but at the same time much worse. Without any apparent reason — he just feels like everything suffocates him, and something is scratching on the inside.

It’s like a monster under the bed that you can’t see when you look — but he’s there, and you know it.

Sasuke takes a deep breath, with an effort too excessive for such a simple action; the air feels unnaturally dense, like some thick mass settling in his lungs.

And with it comes the anticipation of something inevitable, irrational and stupid — like childish fear to be left alone in the dark, only Sasuke was never afraid of darkness — only what always followed after it. And what, it seems, will follow now, or later — it doesn’t matter, really.

He can’t hide forever.

Sasuke doesn’t want to think of even the possibility that Itachi might find him — but he doesn’t need to think. He just _knows_ — he’ll find him, he won’t give up and won’t let him go. As long as he’s alive.

A shiver goes through his body, and Sasuke instinctively hugs himself. It doesn’t help — when has it ever.

He needs something else.

_(Someone else?)_

Sasuke imagines Itachi — lying on the floor, lifeless; with some painful delight pictures his face in his mind — surprised, because he didn’t expect something like that at all; and, of course, empty eye sockets and blood smeared on his face. Sasuke could just use his bare hands — yes, he’d want that.

Sasuke has always hated his eyes more than anything.

Yes, the eyes should be the first thing to get rid of.

Sasuke presses a hand to his mouth to muffle a hysterical laughter about to burst out; but fails, and this laugh sounds more like a sob — or even crying.

Disgusting, really.

“Sasuke.” Kakuzu’s voice makes him raise his head — and immediately look away.

“I’m fine,” _no, I’m not,_ “It’s just...”

The excuse doesn’t go further — Sasuke doesn’t know what to say and how to explain.

“I see,” Kakuzu looks at him skeptically. Sasuke thinks he sees worry flash in his eyes — but it must be his imagination. “If you’re not feeling well, then...”

“I’m _fine,”_ Sasuke really tries not to break down, but his voice is trembling so hard he barely hears his own words. “I... I’d better go.”

And he tries — but after taking just one step, he trips over himself — it feels as if his whole body suddenly stopped responding to the commands of the brain.

Kakuzu catches him at the last moment — quite roughly, but still with some caution.

“Watch your step,” he says, irritated, holds Sasuke by the shoulders — lightly, just to help him regain his balance. “What is it?”

Sasuke slowly shakes his head, unable to answer.

His first impulse is to push him away, to step back; but before he has a chance to do it, Kakuzu immediately lets him go. For some reason Sasuke feels relief come over him — even though he wanted Kakuzu to touch or hold him, wanted to touch him himself; but now he feels... scared.

 _Wrong_ — fits better.

Because _no one else can touch you;_ Itachi’s voice sounds in his head, but as if so close, and his cold hands run down Sasuke’s back.

It’s his imagination.

None of this is real.

It can’t be.

_“Are you sure?”_

There are no monsters under the bed; father, a dark figure silhouetted against the window, weighs the gun in his hand — for some reason it’s metallic shine is what Sasuke remembers so clearly — and says, as if not addressing him at all, “ _monsters exist, but they are much closer.”_

Monsters are people; _others, of course, not me,_ repeats Itachi — or his voice in Sasuke’s head.

_“Don’t be scared, little brother — I’m here.”_

Sasuke grabs Kakuzu’s hand, forgetting pushing him away before — he doesn’t know why, as if it will help somehow — as if he will help him. His surprised look is the last thing Sasuke sees clearly before slumping to his knees, trying to breathe.

His head is spinning, the world before his eyes is blurry, and when Sasuke tries to get up, he only falls down again — but his fingers keep squeezing Kakuzu’s hand.

“Sasuke,” he hears, muffled and barely audible, as if from afar. “What’s wrong?”

His breath is stuck in his throat, and Sasuke is suffocating; he wants to tear his chest wide open just to get some air, but his numb body refuses to cooperate.

 _Help_ — blood is rushing to his head, and it hurts, and of course, no one will help, no one helped _then_ —

Fear overwhelms him again, chasing away all the other feelings, and Sasuke doesn’t understand _why_ — he’s safe—  
Right?  
_He’s safe?_

_“Of course, you’re safe with me, Sasuke. I’m always here,” softly, soothingly says so familiar, so dear—_

_so hateful voice_

“Sasuke.”

Sasuke feels like he can’t breathe.

_Don’t, Itachi, please—_

_why, foolish little brother, am I hurting you?_

The last thing he remembers before everything goes dark are strong arms holding him, and a voice repeating his name — that almost silences Itachi’s voice in his head.

Or is it _all_ in his head?

He wakes up slowly — not even fully, it seems. He can’t open his eyes, so he only hears the voices — muffled and quiet, they sound familiar but he can’t say who they belong to.  
Among them is a female voice, sharp and definitely unfamiliar; Sasuke can barely make out some words of what she’s saying. He hears footsteps and the door creaking, vaguely, quietly — did someone come or leave? Whatever. He doesn’t want to think of anything.

Someone’s hand touches his forehead, and Sasuke shudders, trying to shove it off — _don’t touch me, back off._

“Hush, hush,” the woman says, but he doesn’t listen — tries to push her away, but his hands still don’t obey him, so he only weakly grabs her wrist. “Calm down, I’m not going to do anything.”

Sasuke feels someone carefully unclench his fingers, forcing him to let go of the stranger. Panic comes again but fades when he hears Kakuzu’s voice — and doesn’t even think what he’s doing here.

He says, calmly as always, “It’s alright,” and something else that Sasuke doesn’t hear.

He’s focused on the way Kakuzu holds his hand, light and almost gentle, and Sasuke squeezes his hand back almost painfully; as though if he lets go — something will happen.  
_Just don’t let go._

Kakuzu’s hand is warm, and it’s... nice — calming — something in between; and Itachi’s hands were always cold, contrasting with his body, almost feverishly hot — especially noticeable when he’d press against him, whispering something in his ear.

Sasuke remembers it as something distant — right now Itachi is not here, nothing is threatening him. And his old fear is almost gone, too — not completely, because it never goes completely, but the pressure eases, and it feels somewhat better.

But in its place comes shame and something close to disgust — for his own weakness that he still can’t hide.

“Awake already?” The female voice again, and this time there’s soft amusement in it. “I see that you are, stop pretending.”

Sasuke forces his eyes open, sees blurred faces leaning over him — he has to blink a few times until the image becomes clear.

“How are you feeling?” the woman asks. Sasuke doesn’t know her; she has long blonde hair and calm, kind eyes. It’s not like he instantly wants to trust her — but there’s nothing frightening about her.

Until she touches him, at least.

“I... don’t know.” It’s hard to speak — his throat is dry, and his voice sounds hoarse and quiet.

The woman makes an incomprehensible sound. “You’re not dying, that’s good.”

“Is he alright? What’s wrong with him?”

Sasuke looks at Kakuzu blearily; he doesn’t even try to hide his concern, and it’s... unusual, but probably isn’t that strange.

It’s normal to worry about others. Even if they don’t deserve it.

“Just fatigue, I suppose,” the woman replies calmly. What is her name, who she is — to be honest, Sasuke doesn’t really care.

Right now he doesn’t want to think about anything; weakness makes his whole body feel heavy; his thoughts are a complete mess. But at least he’s not alone.

“So nothing serious?” Kakuzu asks.

“He just needs some rest, and he will be as good as new,” she says with certainty — and, well, she’s right. Sasuke always recovered quite quickly; and what’s going on in his head concerns no one.

And it shouldn’t.

Sasuke stares at the ceiling, almost not listening to their conversation — he hears the words, but the meaning escapes him.

Whatever.

Kakuzu’s hand suddenly twitches in his grip, but Sasuke holds tightly — not thinking that it would be right to let go if it makes him uncomfortable.

Even if he does — he still doesn’t want to break the contact; when would he be able to touch him again... like this.

“Let go,” Kakuzu says, clearly irritated.

“No,” Sasuke whispers, quiet, barely audible; and squeezes his hand tighter. “Stay.”

Everything begins to blur again, and he can’t make out the expression on Kakuzu’s face when he looks at him — but he’s almost sure he’d see confusion at best, disgust at worst.

That’s what he should expect.

But for some reason Kakuzu sighs quietly, sits down on the edge of the bed next to him — he’s not trying to free his hand, and Sasuke wants to hope that he’s not doing this out of pity or obligation.

“I’m not going to comment,” the woman — the doctor, probably, who else could she be — openly chuckles.

Kakuzu mutters something under his breath, and the woman just chuckles again.

Sasuke closes his eyes, telling himself that it’s alright.

It’s actually quite easy to believe this if he focuses only on what he feels _now_ — and doesn’t let himself be consumed by the memories or thoughts of what could happen.

“He just needs rest,” her voice becomes very quiet and distant. “Physically he’s fine, as I’ve said... though, you know...”

Sasuke doesn’t hear anything more, his consciousness fading, the world seeming to drift away — as if no more than a dream or mirage.

But if this is a dream, it’s much better than all the dreams he had before.

His next awakening is much sharper, like coming up out of the water, and in the first moments there’s too many sensations — cool wind on his face, heavy weakness in his body, silence that somehow seems too loud.

Sasuke doesn’t want to open his eyes but still does it — squints through the darkness, trying to see something familiar in the room, looks in the window. It’s late evening or night — he wonders how much time has passed. Must be a lot.

It’s hard to breathe — but, well, he’s used to it. Sometimes Sasuke thinks that it’ll always be like that. He forces himself to sit up on the bed, ignoring the nausea rising in his throat — it’s been worse, now’s not the time to feel sorry for himself.

Honestly, he wouldn’t mind sleeping for another ten hours or so; he doesn’t feel rested at all, only even more tired than before.

But it probably won’t make it any better. It never did.

Sasuke shrugs nervously, trying to get rid of the tension that suddenly came over him.

He’s not completely naked — but it feels that way.

He feels strange — a little afraid — disgusted.

Sasuke exhales, slowly runs his fingers over his arm — from the wrist to the elbow, grimaces, feeling rough scars, and shakes his head, trying to calm down.  
It’s stupid to be afraid of something like that; it’s just scars, as if anyone cares. It’s stupid to hide all the time, it causes a lot more questions.

Sasuke isn’t sure why he’s thinking about it now. He’s not sure what he should do now.  
He hugs his knees, closes his eyes — for a while just sits like this, thinking about all that’s happened lately. And it all seems so stupid too, and he should just laugh at the fear that, once he leaves the room, Itachi will be waiting for him there. But it’s not funny — and he can’t get rid of this feeling right away.

Of course, when he opens the door, he doesn’t see anyone. Just an empty hallway — it’s dark, but Sasuke isn’t afraid of darkness.

And what usually hides in it isn’t here now.

“...and try to make it quick.” Sasuke stops his hand a couple inches away from the door when he hears Kakuzu talking to someone; for some reason he’s talking in English. Sasuke doesn’t know the language perfectly, but enough to understand. “If possible, of course — but I need any information, the sooner the better.”

Sasuke doesn’t hear the answer — so it’s a phone call.

He doesn’t know what this is about — what information? But he clearly shouldn’t interfere; and he’d better just leave quietly, but his damn curiosity mixes with the feeling that it’s important; and Sasuke stays, listening to something that’s not meant for him at all.

“So you’re still chasing the cartels, major Pein?” The way Kakuzu says it makes it sound like some kind of an inside joke — Sasuke doesn’t quite get it, but it’s obviously something personal.

Someone — his friend or something more, Sasuke doesn’t know, even though many assumptions run through his head — answers something; no matter how hard Sasuke tries, he can’t hear a word.

“Seriously? You really got promoted to major? Accept my belated congratulations,” and Kakuzu suddenly laughs.

This laughter is light, husky and just _average_ ; and Sasuke doesn’t understand just what in it makes him listen so eagerly, trying not to miss any sound.

And there’s unpleasant burning feeling in his chest — something like jealousy — that with this unknown man Kakuzu allows himself to be so open.  
Sasuke shakes his head, chasing the thought away — he has no right to think that, because who is he — not even a friend, just some random acquaintance who keeps prying into his life.

“Oh. You and Konan... Seems like I’ve missed quite a lot.” Joy disappears from Kakuzu’s voice; a long pause follows these words. “No. I just realized... for the last few years, I’ve only been calling you to ask something.”

A strange sadness sounds in his voice, and Sasuke feels even more awkward, listening in on their conversation.

“You’re right...” Another pause — Sasuke regrets he can’t hear what this Pein responds. “Perhaps. I don’t understand how you can be so calm about this. I’d be angry if I were you.”

A few seconds of silence — and Kakuzu laughs again, quieter now and not joyful at all.

“Thanks,” he says. “I really... appreciate your help.”

After a short goodbye there’s silence again, broken only by the quiet rustling of the trees outside the window. Sasuke waits for some time, doesn’t dare to call him immediately, stands at the door for a while, just watching him.

And with each too long second it gets not better — but close to that _._

In a loose gray t-shirt and with his hair tied up, Kakuzu seems somewhat more open and relaxed — the way Sasuke hasn’t seen him before. There are a few wide, pale scars on his neck which Sasuke doesn’t notice at first — similar to those on his back.

And Sasuke immediately feels awkward again, as if he saw something he shouldn’t have seen; though it’s foolish, considering that Kakuzu doesn’t hide his scars.

Sasuke is used to hiding his own scars; but right now he’s wearing a top revealing too much, and he instinctively puts his hands behind his back. Almost immediately he forces himself to relax; deliberate secrecy attracts much more attention. Perhaps Kakuzu won’t even stare at him.

Or he’s seen everything before.

Kakuzu seems to feel Sasuke’s gaze fixed on him, turns around; the look in his eyes is weird, not annoyed — more like worried.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks instead of greeting.

Sasuke doesn’t reply right away, staring at him.

“Yeah,” he says finally, having trouble controlling his voice.

Is he imagining things — or is there really relief in Kakuzu’s eyes?  
He must be.

Sasuke imagines too many things — all that can’t be, but what he’d like to see.

“Tsunade said you just needed rest. That it’s stress, nervous exhaustion...” These words are usually followed by ‘don’t you want to tell me something?’ — but Kakuzu says nothing of the sort.

And again it’s hard to understand — is he being tactful or just doesn’t care.

“Tsunade?” Sasuke repeats a vaguely familiar name, remembers — that woman who was here; wasn’t she the one Kakuzu wanted to call last time?

“Dr. Senju Tsunade,” Kakuzu says. “The best — and the only doctor in this town.” He sounds amused.

So she is a doctor — just like he thought.

“The only,” Sasuke repeats, just to say something. He just needs a distraction, and this small talk and Kakuzu’s presence are more than enough. “Seriously?”

Kakuzu shrugs, almost smiling, but this expression quickly gives way to familiar indifference. “What did you expect?”

“Fuu said things were bad here, but I didn’t think she meant _that_ bad.” The attempt a joking comes out awkward, and Sasuke thinks he should’ve kept his mouth shut.

“Well, Tsunade has an assistant,” Kakuzu mutters. “But she still does most of the work at the hospital. Though I wouldn’t say she has a lot of work.”

“You seem to... know each other well.”

“Does that surprise you? Almost the whole town ‘knows each other well’.”

Sasuke nods silently. There seems to be something more behind this, something he can only guess about — but it’s none of his business. He could ask, but he sees no point in it.  
It’s not even that important.

“Are you thirsty?” Kakuzu hands him a glass of water, and Sasuke shakes his head.

“I’d rather have coffee.”

Kakuzu turns away; the corner of his lips twitches slightly, as always when he’s trying to hold back a smile. Sasuke knows he shouldn’t stare at him like that — but he likes this half-smile too much.

“Then sit. I’ll make you some.” Kakuzu seems to ignore the way Sasuke looks at him.

It’s good, yet somehow unpleasant, and Sasuke tries to get rid of this feeling.

Mixed emotions overwhelming him now, annoy and somewhat scare him — Sasuke isn’t used to it, he doesn’t know how he should react to what’s happening. Though nothing is really happening — nothing worth focusing too long on, at least.

Kakuzu puts coffee and sugar into the coffee pot; even something so insignificant makes Sasuke watch him intently. He says nothing, and Sasuke is silent too, wondering whether he should ask him anything. He doesn’t last long.

And it’s probably not even about curiosity, but this unbearable silence, weighing on him. Anything would do — and if Kakuzu isn’t going to start a conversation, why not do it himself.

“Can I ask something?”

“Go ahead.” Kakuzu doesn’t even look back.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” Sasuke stammers, uncertain — but continues. “I accidentally heard you. Who’s... major Pein?”

“Pein?” Kakuzu doesn’t seem at all concerned — maybe he thinks Sasuke didn’t hear anything important. “Just an old friend of mine. We served in the army together.”

He doesn’t say anything more, and Sasuke decides not to question further; he doesn’t want to pry — it’s not his business, after all.

Maybe later, if he has the chance.

Maybe Kakuzu will tell him himself; it’s foolish to count on it, when he has no reasons to trust Sasuke.

Sasuke watches him, resting his head on his hand; and thinks he’d like to know more about him — about his past, his thoughts and feelings, everything he’s hiding so carefully.

Some things Sasuke can see in his gestures and looks; but it’s not much, and it’s not something he could describe in words if he had to.

Like what lies behind Kakuzu’s habit of constantly touching his scar — or this strange sorrow sometimes flashing in his eyes. Behind his attempts to hide his emotions — or outright dislike toward most people.

Or the fact that Sasuke is the exception for some reason — it’s like Kakuzu allows him a little more sometimes.

Perhaps, Sasuke is exaggerating the importance of it all — maybe he sees what he wants to see, not what really is.

“Fuu’s worried about you,” Kakuzu says suddenly.

“Oh.” Sasuke closes his eyes. “No need to.”

“Tell that to her,” he chuckles quietly. “She was losing her mind.”

So like her, Sasuke thinks, worrying about such little things.

“How long... was I out?”

“A little more than a day,” Kakuzu quickly glances at him over his shoulder. “And still, what was that?”

Sasuke doesn’t really know himself how to call this — fear, literally paralyzing him, panic, not letting him breathe; it happens irregularly, sometimes for no apparent reason.

Sometimes the reasons are _too_ apparent.

“Don’t worry,” as if he would, “I’m used to it.”

“Used to it,” Kakuzu repeats thoughtfully. “So does it happen often?”

_He knows he must run, but body doesn’t obey him, his legs are numb, and only his heart is beating so hard it feels like it can break any second._

_“Sakura,” it’s hard to speak, “Sakura, she’s... there...”_

_Naruto’s hands, firm and certain, grab his shoulders, support him, pull him somewhere._

_“It’s okay, calm down,” and his voice, always so cheerful, is trembling with fear — or with tears. “You need to run, hurry, before he’s back, come on.”_

_Who, Sasuke wants to ask but can’t; and he can’t move either, gasps for air — but to no avail, and his legs give out; Naruto barely manages to keep him from falling to the slippery floor._

_Before the world goes dark again, Sasuke manages to see something red in the blurred fog before his eyes — but his consciousness fades before he realizes what is it._

“Sometimes,” Sasuke replies evasively.

Without a word, Kakuzu puts a cup in front of him and sits at the table across him. Sasuke squeezes the cup automatically, looks at him — but still sees something else.

It’s not what he wants to talk about, and Kakuzu doesn’t insist on an answer.

A familiar tugging feeling in his chest — appreciation and something else; Sasuke closes his eyes, takes a sip of coffee, not sure whether to change the topic or keep silent.

Silence doesn’t seem so tense anymore, and Sasuke chooses the latter.

Now, when he’s not alone, his past fears seem stupid and baseless. They are; and he feels ashamed for his recent breakdown. But it’s not really getting better. Yes, he probably won’t faint now, but he still feels sick.

Sasuke looks at his hands mindlessly, at the too familiar scars; it’s like now they stand out on his pale skin more than ever. He doesn’t want to think about it, but the memories, painful images and sensations, don’t go away.

His fingers twitch nervously, and Sasuke exhales slowly, trying to ignore another approaching panic attack.

It’s fine.

_Keep trying to convince yourself._

“What’s with your hands?” Kakuzu asks suddenly.

He reaches out, as if to touch — but doesn’t, stopping his fingers about an inch away from Sasuke’s thin wrist. He looks at the widest scar — old, poorly healed.

Sasuke doesn’t raise his head, not wanting to meet his gaze; and he’s ashamed (afraid) — that he’s noticed, and at the same time wants him to touch him; for some reason Sasuke thinks that if Kakuzu takes his hand, it’ll get better.

But it won’t.

And Kakuzu isn’t going to do anything like this.

He just chuckles understandingly, removes his hand.

“Something personal?”

“Isn’t it the same for you?” It sounds like a desperate and pointless attempt to shield that doesn’t work at all.

“Perhaps,” Kakuzu agrees.

The tension returns, but Sasuke doesn’t want to continue this conversation. He can’t think of another topic and falls silent again.

But that doesn’t make it any easier.

It takes no more than a couple minutes for Kakuzu to break the silence again.

“Do you want to...” he frowns awkwardly but doesn’t look away, “to talk?”

“No.”

Sasuke shakes his head, trying not to meet his gaze; Kakuzu sighs quietly.

“Still, I think we should.”

“I don’t want to talk.” Sasuke can be stubborn too when he needs to.

But he doesn’t need talking — not now.

Now it’ll only make it worse.

“Before you... felt bad... you were acting pretty weird. Was it because of something I did? Or said?”

He clearly isn’t going to just forget it — like he should.

Sasuke doesn’t want to, _can’t_ explain it to him — he will never look at him the same way — he _can’t_ know anything.

“It’s not because of you,” Sasuke manages to say. “I... it’s just... it’s not because of you.”

“Hm.” The look in his eyes is unreadable. “Fine.” And, not letting him recover, Kakuzu continues, “Why don’t you tell me who Itachi is?”

Sasuke doesn’t know how he manages to hold back — he just looks at him, gritting his teeth, looks and can’t say anything — and his world narrows to the dark room and cold hands again.

“W-what,” Sasuke whispers, and his voice is trembling so hard he can barely make out his own words.

“ _Itachi, don’t_ ,” Kakuzu keeps looking at him. “That’s what you were saying.”

He was? Sasuke doesn’t remember it, but he remembers very little, it’s possible; and he doesn’t know what to do now.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m fine.” If only this lie sounded a little more convincing.

Sasuke has to suppress a sudden urge just to tell him everything, let out all this anger and pain — and he’s not sure what he wants. Definitely not sympathetic words, maybe — a silent understanding look, maybe — firm embrace.

Sasuke shakes his head, bites his lips — the shivering doesn’t stop.

“I see how _fine_ you are,” it sounds too much like a sneer — as if his condition doesn’t concern Kakuzu at all; as if it should. “Drink the coffee. Calm down.”

Sasuke obeys, still not looking at him; hot liquid burns his mouth and throat, not helping clear his thoughts at all; but Kakuzu’s voice does a better job of it.

“Look, I told you already, I trust you.”

Sasuke almost asks — when was that; then remembers he did — not directly, but still; and listens on.

“I won’t pry if you don’t want to tell me or can’t,” Kakuzu continues in an unusually soft voice. “But if you need help...”

Sasuke shakes his head again.

“No. Really, there’s no need to.”

He doesn’t need any help, it’s fine; Sasuke presses his hands to his temples, closing his eyes, inhales sharply, trying to keep himself from breaking down. Everything _was_ fine just now. Why is he asking, reminding — but maybe if Sasuke tells him, it’ll be better?

No. What nonsense; no one would feel anything but disgust after finding out something like this — and Sasuke doesn’t want to see this feeling in his eyes.

“As you say,” Kakuzu says after a short pause.

Sasuke thinks he hears understanding in his voice — but could he have guessed?

It’s harder _not_ to guess when Sasuke is completely unable to control himself.

Kakuzu rises up. He doesn’t leave right away for some reason, stays next to Sasuke as wanting to say something else — but never says a word.

Once again Sasuke wants to just hold him — as tightly as possible — and not let go; and at the same time he feels so disgusted with himself at the sheer thought. How can he even think about it.

Sasuke lowers his head and tries to breathe slowly and steadily, ignoring the burning in his eyes and his fast-beating heart.

Suddenly he feels warm hand touch the back of his head — lightly at first, as doubting — but then it ruffles his hair, strokes almost gently; and there’s too much unfamiliar, unexpected tenderness in this touch. Why? Sasuke doesn’t dare move, afraid it might be an illusion; doesn’t dare ask, afraid it might stop.

But it seems like an eternity has passed — Kakuzu doesn’t leave; and Sasuke loses it, turns to him sharply and hugs him, pressing his face against his stomach. Kakuzu flinches — in surprise or disgust, Sasuke doesn’t want to think — but doesn’t push him away, and doesn’t remove his hand, continuing to stroke his hair.

And this makes something break inside him — Sasuke tries to keep it together, but dry sobs still tear out; and he presses closer against Kakuzu, clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt. His eyes are burning, but he’s not crying — he thinks.

“Stupid kid,” Kakuzu says quietly. “What have you done to yourself.”

He pushes him away gently — only to lean down and hold him tighter; and this time Sasuke isn’t afraid — Kakuzu’s calm confidence somehow makes him feel safe. Kakuzu strokes his back gently, not saying anything else — but he’s here, he’s not going anywhere.

And it finally becomes easier to breathe.


End file.
